No flashy intro necessary; I literally overheard the absolute strangest parent-teacher Conference ever yesterday afternoon. This is what I walked into:

Is there anything we can do for her grades? Can’t she stay after school with you for extra help? What can we do?”

Then there was a pause as the person on the other end of the call said something.

But she’s a good girl…I know she can try harder…there must be something we can do?”

I won’t bore you the rest of the conversation because what was said isn’t the weird part. The weird part was that I was heading into the employee locker room to go to the bathroom after lunch and walked in on that conversation. I immediately looked around to see where the voice was coming from and low and behold I looked over at the stall to see a pair of white uniform pants the kitchen guys wear around the ankles and two black loafers… I recognized his voice and already knew who it was and he’s a really nice guy in spite of the vest of back hair that he wears under his shirt.

Realizing he was on a parent teacher conference call that was obviously personal, I wondered why he would even have that conversation in a bathroom stall because the echo alone would be disruptive, when someone in the stall next to his farted. Really Loud! Gallagher smashing a watermelon with a mallet loud! That was immediately followed by an abrupt flushing of the toilet, I guess to distract, but the damage was already done. As I have always said, and will continue to say until the day I slip into my final Imodium induced coma, farts are funny. Apparently, what wasn’t funny was that me, being the absolute picture of maturity and professionalism at work, immediately burst out laughing uncontrollably like a Tickle me Elmo on steroids. I couldn’t help it, the laughter just burst out of me with the same sheer force and velocity that the fart flew out of the stall next door with.

Even though I had originally gone in there to use the bathroom, I sprinted out the door and down the hall. I was laughing like an insane person with tears rolling down my face as I heard him ask the teacher to hold on a minute while he stomped his foot and mumbled something about being on an important call with his daughter’s teacher…  Maybe I’m not mature, but I love how the fart didn’t merit a mention, the flush didn’t get a notice, but I burst out laughing and it gets him annoyed.

To any teachers out there, please tell me the weirdest parent teacher conference you’ve had. To anyone else, please don’t tell me about your shitting and phone usage. I would think having your cell phone go off repeatedly with a Sanford & Son theme song as your ringtone (DUNT DUNT DUNNIT… DUNT DUNT DUNNIT DUNNIT DUN DUNT DUNT DUNNIT….DUNT DUNT DUNNIT DINIT DUNNN DUNT DUNT …DINT DUNT DANT DANT DANT DERRT DERRRT DERRRNT DERRRNT DEERNT DERRRRRR) while you were in an Easter Sunday mass led by the Pope would be more appropriate than having this conversation while on the throne.

i’ll use any any excuse to bring up this classic…

Let’s not even mention the impracticality of the noise or the strangeness of having to explain a rogue fart or two…That is just a filthy undertaking! Even in the cleanest bathroom – poop is poop and shouldn’t ever be involved in a conversation, whether it’s your kid’s teacher or not. Are you dialing and pressing keys with those same hands you’re using to conduct your business in there? Did you just dial with those germ infested fingers and then put that phone up to your face? Are you going wash your hands before you prepare the lunch for the employee cafeteria? Am I ever likely to eat in that cafeteria again?

 

Please don’t ask me what ever happened to his daughter and if she’s now working at the car wash because she had to drop out  of school –  it’s not like I’m ever going to bring that up with him and find out. It’s also not likely that I’m ever going to shake his hand again. It’s amazing that I can get past the mountain of back hair covering his back like a mohair Schmatta, yet not the parent/teacher throne conversation…What do you do if you’re that teacher and what do you do when that kid brings brownies into your class on her birthday and says her dad made them? Teachers have it hard enough people, let them be…not working summers isn’t worth that!

Doesn’t mean he’s not a nice person…

 

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About www.immodiumabuser.com

Funny ass blogging mofo. I write a crazy blog called Immodiumabuser.com with all my embarrassing moments put on display. Connect on Facebook (im Immodium Abuser) or like my page at Facebook.com/immodiumabuser

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