Oh, now this is just good fun.
So, a mom walks into a second grade classroom-…
(This sounds like it’s gonna be a bad joke, and I wish it were only that.)
And she hands the teacher a plate of cookies, saying she thought she could “educate them on the vagina”. To teacher’s shock and awe, she looks down to see a variety of vaj genres – there’s everything from the fiery Lohan and long labial darkened drapery – all the way to the pink and puffy porn poon.
All there on a platter – shaped outta sugar and icing.
Kindly declining, she told the mother she couldn’t pass these out to a bunch of short people who had just made it past their sixth or seventh year of being alive. Just didn’t, ya know, seem right.
So, that night, she gets this text from the mom.
I tend to think this bish came home, drank her feelings, and proceeded to spend the rest of the night constructing this message – finally getting the liquid courage (perhaps supplemented by a few prescription substances) to send it around ten at night. That’s my hope, at least, when I read something this unintelligible. Also – you know from the teacher’s lack of charge on her phone, that she spent at least an hour sending these screencaps to all her colleagues and friends until her phone jsut couldn’t take it anymore.
While I’d have loved to read her reply to this mom, I couldn’t find it.
So, I’ll hafta hope it went something like this:
Dear I-can’t-believe-you-ever-bred:
On the contrary, I am very open minded!
In fact, I had to really, really open my mind just to read and comprehend your letter to me – which was grammatically worse than any of the seven year olds I’ve ever taught. Even your child’s, surprisingly. (And that’s saying a lot!) But I’m glad that you’ve displayed your ignorance so thoroughly in one succinct letter to me. Because although I had fully intended to enlighten you on how it’s not my job (or anyone’s) to educate single digit aged schoolchildren on “how to please the vagina”, I’ll educate you on something else: why I educate.
And that reason is that I hope to make a strong impression on children like yours.
That way I can hopefully counteract the ignorance and narrow-mindedness they’re learning at home. Now, don’t take this personally, my dear. I’m just touching on a point you brought up about closed-mindedness. Ironically, it was actually the woman who brought in cunt-fections to me today who had a closed mind. She closed it right away to wherever it was that I was coming from when she became angry with me for rejecting the cootchie cookies (which were delicious, I admit, however inappropriate).
Did you ask me why I didn’t pass them out?
Did you wonder if maybe it was because it isn’t my place to deliver sex ed? That there are other parents who want to teach their children with a chosen place, time, and way? That would be closed-minded of me to assume that role just because of a personal belief system I want to disseminate, don’t you think? Invasive, too! In a way (and you’re a feminazi, so you’ll enjoy this metaphor), that’s kinda rapey. We don’t want to rape children’s blissful ignorance from them and their parents, do we now? That is the brand of psychosis laced narrow thinking I hope for my students to avoid. Thinking outside the box – but hopefully not even having to think about the “box” at all beyond its basic urinary and don’t-let-strangers-touch-it functions for at least a couple more years.
Then, of course, there’s the obvious kind of education I’ve signed up to do – which you’ve also helped remind me of monumentally with your message. (Thanks!) Here are just a few of the examples you generously offered of the kinds of things that keep me waking up each day and hunching over paperwork for the greater good.
Yes. All of these beautifully illustrate why a teacher’s work is never done.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a single father here with penis cookies.
Since baking isn’t a “man’s job”, I think I’ll let him stay.
That way he can observe while I educate the class on the peen today.
His open mind about gender roles has really opened mine too, suddenly!
Funny how that happens, isn’t it?
Sincerely,
The cliche clitoris owner
