The vile smell of formaldehyde and Miss Brion’s stank turtle tank invades my nostrils.
Waiting in line outside her classroom, is like waiting for my impending doom.
She thinks science is fun and exciting…I think she’s a mad scientist trying to propagandize my posse.
Dissecting owl pellets and frogs? Cruel and disgusting.
What do you mean she wants me to scrape the bones clean and reconstruct them into a skeleton?! Is she insane? I’m not an archeologist…or, wait, is it an anthropologist? Oh, who cares!
Whipping up a batch of Oobleck? What a gooey mess! How am I supposed to know if that green stuff is a liquid or a solid? It’s neither, duh!
Making models of atoms with pipe cleaners and beads? Stupid!
Seriously?! You want me to draw the solar system to scale on a ten foot piece of cash register tape? This is elementary school, lady!
And, I did NOT appreciate getting shocked when we made parallel and series circuits.
Why can’t we just read from the textbook and get our homework out of the way?
Oh, and by the way, Miss Brion…it’s time to replace your Glade air freshener.
If I have to smell the byproducts of your crazy experiments or your classroom pets one more time…I am going to barf all over you.
How would you like to scrutinize the contents of that under one of your microscopes?!
That’s what I thought.
No comments:
Post a Comment