Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Seriously. Don't touch my shit.


Dear 13-year-old:

I don't care if you're older than the other kids at camp. This does not make you exempt from the rules. When one of the rules is "Please don't touch the stuff I have laid out on the table," I expect you, as an older kid, to be a good kid and follow this rule. You are not special. You are not my assistant. I don't care if my stuff is on a stage instead of technically on a table, you little smartass. You do not have the right to go through my boxes of materials while my back is turned. When I say you get to have two balloons, and you pop one because you're dicking around with it, you don't get to go into my box of materials and get a third one when I'm not looking.

When I say something to you, I expect you to listen. I don't care if you're older than everyone else. If anything, you ought to be setting a good example, instead of encouraging the little ones into bad behavior. When I ask you to stop sitting on the stage and sit in your chair, do it. When I tell you to put your shirt back on, that doesn't mean you can take your shirt off again an hour later. I don't care if you're hot! It's air conditioned and it's your choice to run around during break. You don't strip down, dude. Not cool.

Lastly, what the fuck are you doing here? The age cap is 12 and even that's too old.

No love,

the Professor.

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