the Christmas guillotine

My husband built me a guillotine.

My old one fell apart.

Ok, it wasn’t actually my guillotine. It was my dad’s. He got it for a Christmas present.( The blade was wooden though. Poser.)

This was in addition to:

  • the psychedelic toilet seat
  •  the giant tortoise shell ( before it was illegal to acquire such things)
  •  the Hungarian fencing sabers
  •  the weather vane
  •  the branding iron with his initials.

Somehow a tradition started to see if he could guess  what his Christmas present was by playing twenty questions.  He guessed the toilet seat on the third guess. He guessed every single one.

The guillotine went to good use. It sat outside our front porch on Halloween.

When it fell apart, my husband built me a new one.

That’s love.

Harriet the Spy and her acolytes

My best friend and I read Harriet the Spy obsessively. We took to spying on our friends. Then, she took to spying on me.

My house was very very long, an old English Tudor style with a fragile slate roof.  One afternoon I glanced out my bedroom window. She was crouching out there on the slanted slate roof, which she could only have accessed by climbing up onto a porch, then onto a garage roof, then onto the main roof, and crawling about 80 feet.

Our house had a panel in the wall, really a secret panel, that opened onto a shaft about 30 inches square.  It went from the basement to the first floor. Looked like it might have been a dumbwaiter.

One day my mother was walking by and heard a noise. She opened up the door and there was Scuz, holding on to the wall, with a notebook.

“SHHH. Don’t tell her I’m in here.”

My mother shrugged and shut the panel. She didn’t even tell me about it for about ten years.

the flying pig circus

Had a student who brought her boyfriend to meet the family. They politely inquired about his plans for the future. In a moment of uncontrolled whimsy he said,

“I want to own a pig circus.”

With themed foods, no less. He waxed eloquent.

Pork funnel cake.

Whipped bacon flavored cotton candy.

Pigs leaping through hoops of fire.

The girl punished him by making him get a job.

barometric pressure

My husband used to sleeptalk. Eyes wide open.

One night as I was  almost in a dream, my husband rolled over, sat up, and said cheerfully,

” Did I ever tell you about  how barometric pressure works? It’s really fascinating.”

I rolled over and pulled my eyelids open.  It was 1:oo A.M.

” Ummm, could you  tell me about this in the morning?”

WELL!!”  in an injured and aggrieved voice. “I thought  you would have wanted to know.”   

Whereupon he grabbed the blanket, rolled over and went back to sleep. Assuming he was actually awake during this transaction,

which left me wide awake, staring at the ceiling, blanketless, wondering,

what the hell just happened?”

To this day he won’t explain barometric pressure to me. “You had your chance.”

thats one way of looking at it

After translating, a girl looked at the book with a puzzled frown.

“Wow. Latin is like really bad English.”   ( Her classmates loved her for this. So do I)

This, however, may be the best.

” Latin. Its almost like a foreign language.”

That’s one way of looking at it.

Not heard in the classroom or NAIL THAT SUCKER TO THE FLOOR

My husband once  made the cardinal error of suggesting that, should I run out of things to write about, I could write about him.

Be careful what you  innocently and generously offer your wife.

As anyone who has ever been in my house or classroom knows, I am not a paragon of organization. I try a little bit harder with actual cleanliness issues, but hey, I’m doing my best. Or something like that.

Anyway, the point here is that I had an objection to his  underwear on the floor.  All of which were inches from the hamper. No wonder he never made it into the NBA.

I pointed this out to my husband a few times, who may or may not have listened to me.

Many years ago  I chastised a male friend  for cavalierly commenting that he wasn’t listening when his wife told him something of interest. He looked at  me very seriously and said,

“Well, does your husband listen when you talk?”

So, I went and got a hammer and nailed his underwear to the floor.  At least three pairs.

He didn’t notice for four days.

When he did notice, he just went and got a hammer and calmly pulled the nails out of the carpet.

A week later  I picked up all his dirty socks, which were tossed decoratively around the hamper on the floor like offerings to a household god, and put them in the drawer with the clean socks.

“Do you know how all these dirty socks got in my sock drawer?”    A voice over from the Exorcist answered.

“I PUT THEM THERE”

” Oh, ok. Fine. No problem.  I was just wondering.”

Lest you consider trying this novel approach yourself, consider that all  that came of it  was a good anecdote, and I have a husband with a sense of humor.   But I’ve heard people get great results using crazy glue. If you have, please post a comment and let me know.

disrobing

A disturbing number of boys have requested leave to disrobe and change in the classroom.  To me this is the stuff of nightmares, finding yourself  in a public place with no clothes on.  I say no.

A class was filming a project.   We were in the back of the school and I was watching the filming when I heard a door open and the principal came out. And that is when I realized that:

a) we were filming in front of an immense glass window

b)  three of the boys had removed their pants and were standing around in their boxer shorts.

The principal, ( who was also a rabbi. somehow that makes it worse)   had seen the boys through the large window and had come out to question them on their lack of attire. With perfect aplomb and straight faces they told him that this was required as costuming  for their part in the film.

I grabbed a script and wandered off trying desperately to look busy. The principal didn’t know what to say. You could almost see him grabbing at responses and then discarding them. Finally, at a loss for words, he went back in the building.

The god Poseidon was in the script.  The line read, ” As king of the sea, it is only fitting that the largest fish be mine.”  The prop the student brought in was a small marlin or sailfish trophy. Which he stuck in his belt, the head and bill protruding out. Points for a visual metaphor.

On the plus side, he still had his pants on.