Working for Peanuts (Or Kolaches)

I have this one kid who will bring me a kolache every now and then. Those days tend to be good days. Angry parents, angry administrators, and angry students are not as bad when you have a tasty treat snuggled in your belly.

Yes, I know that I complain about the administration giving us food every Friday morning, but that's different. This kid doesn't have a file on me. It hasn't become a thoughtless routine for him where he opens my classroom door and tosses it in my direction. It's more like, "Hey, I can only eat eleven kolaches today (Oh, to be seventeen again). I bet my English teacher would like one."

He does this because he knows that I mean it when I tell my students that I'm there for them. Plus, it gives him an opportunity to share his thoughts on assignments, outside readings or outside something else(things that may be difficult to do in a classroom of 30 peers programmed to devour you the instant you open up).

It's not like this kid is trying to squeeze me for a higher grade either.

He seems to be fine with his average academic standing. Heck, he turns in more kolaches to me than he does essays.

Yes, I do have a softer side. Soft like the warm, buttery bun of a sausage stuffed, cheese saturated kolache. Dang it, where is this kid?!