Wheatzie

I had my current 7 th grade class as 4 th and 5 th graders, but when I accepted a new position as “head of the middle school language arts department” at our school, I got them again. (Titles are so pretentious, aren’t they?  That’s why I only make the kids use it when they’re making direct eye contact with me, which I rarely allow anyway.) “Ugh,” I told them on the first day of school this year.   “You guys were my least favorite class. I was so glad to let you fly a couple of years ago.   And now I have to have you again.” They stared at me, unsure of how to react.   Was I kidding?   Should they laugh? “Are you joking?” one of them asked me. “No,” I replied. They laughed anyway, pleased that they’d had that effect on me in 4 th and 5 th grade.   Seventh graders are jerks like that. Anyway, it is what it is, and I’ll now have them for two more years since “head of the middle school language arts department” in our school means “the only  language arts teacher for 6 th