I. Love. My. Job.
Why?
Because I get to be an 8th grader with a badge (lingo half-kiefed from Mr. Coward). In other words, I have free and total reign to act just like an 8th grader once in a while. We are learning some hefty vocab lately and sometimes there's no other way than to come up with some crazy technique to remember the definitions. Consternation is one of those words. Say it again - consternation. What's it sound like? It's OK, remember - 8th grader with a badge. That's right - constipation. Numerous times today we reviewed that word and each time it was "Consternation means ... a great fear...ofbeingconstipated." It really only means great fear, but the kids get a kick out of hearing their teacher say constipated AND they remember it (except for that one kid who thinks consternation IS constipation).
I love my job.

Why?
Because when a student takes the time to remove his shoe and sock and shows me the bottom of his foot where he stepped on his pencil last night and asks me if he has lead poisoning I can say "No. Pencils are made of graphite, so you can't get lead poisoning from a pencil," and hear in awed reply "Wow, Mrs. Rowley. And why aren't you a science teacher?"
I love my job.
Why?
Because while trying to read one stinking chapter of Call of the Wild, we had in depth class discussions about ALL of the following: diaphragm elk calls, car crashes, San Bernadino, wolves howling at the moon, batting gloves, being stranded at a bowling alley, Ty, Shooter, corrupt politicians, whether you get a locker as a freshman at Cedar High, gee-poles, guns, snowboarding, pregnancy's relation to progeny (another vocab word), Robert Pattinson's hairy arms, and why Jack London was an oyster pirate.
I love my job.