Hate clothes, love chocolate.

Is it weird that the first thing I want to do when I step through the door in the evening is take off all my clothes?  

For some reason, at the end of the work day I just want to completely strip myself of the constraints of clothing and the germs, sweat, snot and magic markers that accompany with them.  Seriously, nothing feels better than taking a bra off after a day of teaching.  What? Sorry. Forget I said that. Moving on. 

Also, I think...there are a handful of students who are trying to drive me to drink.  

I'm not sure what my breaking point will be: 

Using permanent markers to doodle on the beloved white board?

Asking to go potty four times in one hour?

Tattling.

Sharpening one's index finger in a crayon sharpener?

Eh, not so bad I can't deal.  For now, I may just succumb to severe chocoholism. 

Chocoholism

One week has officially come and gone since Easter, and I am officially out of chocolate. This is the worst, and best news of the week.  I probably could have drowned in the massive amount of cocoa I ingested. My taste buds were happy, my scale was not.  

Coincidentally, the same day I ate my last chocolate egg, a little man in the yellow room got a bloody nose. Don't see a correlation? Let the little man explain for you --

Me: Little man*, Were you picking your nose too hard again? **

Little Man: No. My mom gave me choc-o-lutt and I got blood yest-a-day. 

Me: Oh? So you ate chocolate and then your nose startled bleeding?

Little Man: Yes. Choc-o-lutt makes you get blood. 

Interesting. Completely false, but interesting strategy to limit household candy consumption. If this was in fact true, I would have died days ago from immense Hershey-induced hemorrhaging. Maybe my mom should have told me bloody noses were a direct consequence of eating choc-o-lutt. Maybe then my scale would be happier with me.

Sometimes I wish I still held the same naive view of the world my Yellow-Roomers do.

*Names were changed to protect the innocence of Yellow-Roomers
** Yes, this is actually a problem we encounter daily.  Some students find entertainment in shoving tissues (or bare fingers) so far up their nose-holes that they bleed. Gross, indeed.