Thursday, May 04, 2006

Button This

So today we had a department meeting, and next to the sign-in sheet was a bowl full of buttons. You know, buttons from shirts, buttons for jackets--buttons! There were big buttons, green buttons, brass buttons, you name it. It reminded me of a jar that I'd find in my grandma's house.

Naturally, I figured that Ms. Borrish (The perfect name for a teacher at this school, if you ask me), the department head, had something corny up her sleeve. What would it be? Was she going to use them to remind us that it is the end of the year and we need to "button" down? Or should we push our "buttons" for success?

Terrible, right? Trust me, those phrases are brilliant compared to what Borrish had to say. She gnarled up that evil, over-statement voice of hers, and said: "This button should be placed on your desks in your classrooms to remind each and every one of you to button your lips. A high school is no place for cruel gossip."

Actually, I thought high school was the cradle of cruel gossip.

Anyway, I guess she took our silence as a sign that we were intimidated and continued with, "You know who you are. If you don't like it, then you can beat it at the end of the year. Let me help you--the interstate runs north and south out of here!"

That was a big mistake because that encouraged a room of thirty end of the year, pushing a Section Eight, teachers to respond:

"If we don't know who we are, then could you tell us?"

"Careful. That would be gossip."

"But it would be true."

"Gossip doesn't have to be false to be gossip."

"Ooh, that's deep."

"That reminds me. My car's going into the shop tomorrow, and I'll need a ride to school. Is anyone coming from the north on the interstate?"

"Hey, trade buttons with me."

"Give up my coat button? Pass."

I really don't see why Borrish stormed out of the room like she did. She should have expected it. The exact same thing happened last year with her bowl full of zippers.

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