Made of Sugar and Spice and a touch of Pure Evil

In my free time, I do a few side jobs. I teach a night class for college students because I enjoy helping them get into graduate school. I help a 9th grader with her math because she’s the coolest person I know. But another job involves spending an hour a week with a 10-year old girl. There’s only one reason I haven’t quit yet: spite. She doesn’t want me there, so I show up - every single week. Her mom is always in such good spirits when she picks up her daughter from the library.

“Well, it looks like you got a lot done today! Good job!”

Your daughter spit on me.

"Hopefully those math workbooks and flashcards are helping."

She hacked something up and spit on my arm in the middle of the library. I could all but see the H1N1 on my arm.

"I know it can be a challenge to keep her on task. She’s just so strong-willed."

Why do you always drop your voice to a nearly inaudible level every time you describe your daughter as ‘strong-willed?’ It’s not a bad word. It’s also inaccurate.

"You know, her teachers say she’s doing so much better since we got her on the medication. We’re really pleased."

Your child is a sociopath.

"Her grades have improved. We’ve noticed better behavior at home."

She could kill without remorse. Animals for sure. Possibly humans.

"We really appreciate you taking the time to work with her. I think it’s helping a lot with her confidence."

She put honey in my hair and tried to stick a toothpick in my eyeball. She attacked me like a wolf.

"She seems to enjoy her time with you."

She’s planning a way to kill me in my sleep. ‘Strong-willed?’ No. There are words for what your daughter is, but society frowns on calling children those things.

"We’ll see you next week – same time and place!"

An asshole...[as the monster hugs me]...your third grader is an absolute asshole.

I Know Why The Caged Bird Throws Himself In Front Of Oncoming Traffic

My friend Troy just got back from an arts conference at a mountain resort in Utah. The day he arrived, he noticed that the leaves on one tree on the mountainside had just started to turn yellow. He described sitting on his balcony reading a book and watching a waterfall crash down a mountain about fifty yards away. On the morning he left, all of the trees had turned. The way he described this place, I'd expect a rabbit in a tuxedo to serve me breakfast in bed.

One of the traditions of the conference is to release into the wild a bird that had been nurtured back to health over the past year. In a fitting tribute to nature, wildlife, and the liberal spirit of the conference, everyone gathered outdoors for some commemorative words. A celebrity was even there to shower praise on those who participate in these noble efforts. The caged bird patiently awaited 45 minutes of pomp and circumstance - surrounded by dozens of proud, self-satisfied conference attendees.

Then finally, it was time. The cage was hoisted into the air. The door was opened. The bird flew free to the applause of the crowd! I'm certain, had Troy cared enough to look, he would have seen a few tears in the group. The bird soared to a nearby tree and perched atop a high branch, free at last. The program continued on, but the celebrity was soon interrupted by two consecutive sounds.

Thud. Gasp.

The bird, taking flight once again, had glided gracefully through the mountain air, dipped towards the green earth, and flown directly into the path of an oncoming bicycle.

I hope they release the same bird again next year.

*Photo credit: Jennifer Gregory on RatesToGo travelblog