mike

I may have been known to weave a tale or two in my day... and/or perhaps add extra details to events and stories... but... what I am about to share is for real real. for real.

last year, I had a dream class. seriously, they were amazing. in the morning, we have language arts... my ga and special ed pals, muccilla and stazey would come into my room, and we would conquer the little childrens. one particular morning, there was a group on the computers, a group with stazey, a group with me, and a group with muccilla. we were all pretty spread out around the room. all of a sudden, one of my little girls shyly rose her hand and asked us to please have the boy stop hitting her. we figured that the little boy sitting across from her was kicking her under the table, so we started to lecture him, but he stared wide-eyed, and exclaimed that he wasn't kicking her. the little girl, who would never ever draw any kind of attention to herself, said that the little boy across from her wasn't kicking her, and that the boy behind her was hitting her. there wasn't a little boy behind her. there wasn't anyone behind her. the table behind her was empty, and the kids were all in their respective groups. nobody was wandering around. we adults just looked at this kid like she was crazy. the next day, that little girl was absent, and a child who was absent the previous day was there, sitting at the same table that the girl was sitting at. we began our workshops, when he stood up and yelled for the boy to stop hitting him. uh-oh. here we go again. once again, all children were accounted for, and nobody was behind him.

fast forward to the following week... we were all in our groups. I happened to be with the group at the table where kids were "getting hit", when, all of a sudden, in my quiet room, where the window was closed, the blinds flew UP on the window. now, I have seen blinds fall on their own, but never have I experienced them flying up... and then a few things on my cabinet across the room fell off the shelf. that kind of wigged me out... but since then, nothing else has happened in my room...


until today.

actually, it started happening in the other kindergarten teacher's room. she has a little fellow, who... struggles. he doesn't know letters or sounds or how to spell his name, and maybe even what his name is. I kid not. the kid struggles. well, our special ed guru has been working with him to spell his name since the beginning of the school year. recently, he went up to her and said, "my name is mike. m.i.k.e. mike." his name is not mike. today, another little struggling fellow looked at her and told her that he could spell his name... "m.i.k.e." his name isn't mike either. these kids aren't savvy enough to copy each other. trust me. the first little guy just sat on the carpet today, rocking back and forth, chanting, "mike. m.i.k.e. mike, mike, mike, mike. m.i.k.e." creepy.

we adults started putting the stories together and began creeping ourselves out. today, after lunch, I brought my kids back to the classroom. they sat on the floor for math songs and instruction (more than 40 minutes), when muccilla came into my room to eat lunch. she sat down, and immediately jumped up and yelped, "what. is. on. this. chair?! what did I just sit in?!" she then made me inspect her pants (I told her that I didn't feel comfortable doing that, but she made me... nothing was on them), and she told me that she sat in something wet (she thought that a child had an accident, but, today, I had nay a wet child the whole day... knock on wood)... we then looked at the chair, and it was bone dry. the next thing we know, one of my kids, who has his stuff together, raised his hand, and told us that he plays with mike. I don't have a mike in my classroom... and there isn't a mike in our entire wing (there may be one mike in the whole school. in like 6th grade. and he goes by michael, not mike). schaeffy (special ed) asked him where he plays with mike, and he took her over to dramatic play (near the window with the blinds that flew up last year). shaeffy asked him what mike looked like, and my kid told her that he was smaller than her, but bigger than him... and that he looked mostly like a little boy but a little bit like a monster... and that he doesn't always see him, but he's there. two other kids in my class also said that they saw mike sometimes.

this is all true... no embellishments. I'm good with it all, but I just want mike to stay in ashley's room.