We were in the library today, working on typing fiction stories, when another teacher poked her head in. "Can I talk to you?" she said. I glanced around the room, saw no imminent disasters, and met her in the hallway. Apparently three of my boys had been overheard talking at lunch about their plans to kill the gym teacher on the last day of school and hide his body. Hmmm. Sounds like time to talk to the principal! She ended up calling the police (more to scare the shit out of them than anything else, I think) and suspending them for three days. So, next week ought to be pretty peaceful......I'm just glad I didn't hear it, so I don't have to be involved in any way.
While they were down in the office, the psychologist called me, to let me know what was going on. She asked if I thought they would really do it. It took me a minute to figure out what she meant. Do I think they really said it? Sure. Do I think they would really kill the gym teacher? Hell no. They're only ten. Now I know we have to take stuff like this seriously these days, but please. Then she asked me if they knew they were in trouble. "Well, since they've been in the principal's office for the last hour, I sure hope they know they're in trouble......unless they're not in the office, in which case they are DEFINITELY in trouble." Yikes. What an afternoon. For the principal, I mean -- for me it was perfectly lovely. The class was almost silent!
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