So I couldn't help feeling like I was in Ferris Bueller's Day Off last night as I ran my son's freshman schedule at Open House. In particular, science class was setting off warning bells in my head with an instructor who announced he doesn't really care for "those computers" (I swear I heard 'doze' computers...as in 'Da Bears' and I really wanted to jump up and shout, "You mean those dang, new-fangled contraptions that have advanced science light years ahead of what was ever believed possible??" But I didn't. I didn't want to do the extra credit...see below.) and who doesn't check his email so if we have questions (which we shouldn't because he's only ever had to fail students because they didn't turn in work not because the material was too hard, so read between the lines and get the message which is "Parents, please do not call!") we are to call him on the telephone and if, for some reason we can't get through to him by phone, we are to call the "main office up there" (or maybe it was "up der") and ask for the department chair who will get the message to him (I literally had visions of a little science teacher emergency relay system passing the phone message hand over hand down the hall from the "main office up there" to this guy who would slowly turn his owl-like head in disbelief that a parent wanted to talk with him.)
Yet, should my son have trouble with the material or forget to study for the test (which already happened with the chapter 1 test on Monday) and find that his grade is slipping, he has the generous opportunity to complete the Extra Credit, which would be...a leaf collection! And, yes, folks, this is your grandma's leaf collection from her grade school days. While it garners an additional 50 points added on to your semester grade, I envision the process as being as exciting (read: tediously painful) as this video portrays. My guess is, knowing my son, he will be running frantically after the "elephant truck" on the night before the collection is due, desperately grasping at already-dried, semi-pressed leaves not sucked up the giant hose while being forced to actually speak to the adult driver. Motivated by sheer panic at not finishing said leaf collection, he will be knocking on the truck window and begging, "Sir, sir, please, do you know what kind of leaf this is?" (native species only, BTW, none of those darn Japanese or Asian or European tree leaves here in the American science class, thank you very much!)
Which leads me to believe he will be paying his grandma for one-time leaf collection use rights because she actually still has hers. I wonder what she'll charge... Anyone, anyone?
Recent Comments