Setting "Miss Mel" Straight!

Date:  One cold, snowy winter day . . . 2010

Gender: Barely 5-year-old, round-faced, blue-eyed little boy

Locale:  Red Room

Alias:  W

During the winter season, we get a lot of snow in our small town.  Unlike school districts in the Eastern U.S., schools in our state (especially our county) rarely close for snow storms . . . not even for the big ones. 

In our preschool program, we Special Education teachers act as related service providers and support within the "regular" classrooms.  We are now considered to be the "team leaders" of a group (set of classrooms) rather than individual classroom teachers.  This is all new to us.  Two years ago, we were lead classroom teachers (as was our SLP).  However, as the number of children who qualified for Special Education services increased and needed to be filtered into other classrooms, we found that we were stretched too thin and unable to serve all of the special education children throughout the building.  Thus, we were pulled out of an individual classroom and now serve children within several classrooms.

With this new role, also came new responsibilities.  Two of us Special Education teachers, along with the SLP (and her assistants) are now responsible to help get all of the children off of the buses and send them down the hall to their classrooms.  On one particular day this winter, we got blasted with a big dumping of snow; about 18 inches in a 12 hour time frame.  Several of our preschool buses were late bringing the kids to school that day, and if I remember correctly, one didn't show at all.

After we brought in all of the kids from the buses, I proceeded to one of the classrooms that I work in.  I was surprised to see W sitting at a table across the room . . . as he ALWAYS rides a bus to school and I had not helped him off of his that day.  Standing at the far end of the room from where he was sitting, I stated to another teacher:  "Ahhhhh, W DID make it to school today.  I thought he was absent."  The other teacher informed me that his mother had brought him to school.  I said, "Oh!  I'm guessing he missed the bus---since so many of them were running late in this ugly weather."

Little did I know that the little ears were listening big . . . as we so often have to repeat what we say to him in order to know that he heard and processed what was said.  No sooner had the words left my mouth (normal tone of voice) from all the way across the room, than W piped up and yelled in an offended and animated tone of voice, "I.   D.I.D.   N.O.T.   M.I.S.S.   T.H.E.   B.U.S.!!!!    T.H.E.   B.U.S.   M.I.S.S.E.D.   M.E.E.E.E.E.E.E.E.E (his little thumb pointing in toward his own chest as he informed me of the true, exasperating situation)!!!"

*giggles*