@ Home in the World

We are the mites who say "Meep"

I still have a few years before I'm due to forget what it's like to be a teenager. When I read stuff like this, it all comes flooding back.

The principal of a High School near here has banned the used of a made-up word, "Meep," on school grounds, claiming that it's disruptive. Apparently he was trying to head off a planned prank he read about on Facebook.  Is he doing his job keeping order and discipline, or is he overreaching? You get more information from the comments than the actual article, but the prank seems to have been targeted at a specific teacher whom the students have no respect for and some of the parents are a little afraid of.

Okay, that was a completely butchered sentence, but at least I can spell principal.

As an adult, and a presumed authority figure, I think I'm expected to side with the school. But I have never been a rules-driven person, and I find myself in sympathy with the kids. That's not to say that I thnk all rules are bad, but most don't apply to every situation, and some of them can be a arbitrary and 
ridiculous. On the surface, this looks like a guy misusing his authority because he doesn't have any real influence. An appropriate balance between authority and influence is probably what makes a good administrator, or teacher, or parent.

The consensus seems to be, that in banning a word, rather than addressing an action, the principal has made himself look like a foolish control freak.

Can you remember bonding with your peers over a really bad teacher or clueless administrator? I can remember a school-wide walk out (aided by a strategically pulled fire alarm) when we were all protesting.... Actually, I don't remember what we were protesting, the point is that we bonded, dammit! And when it seems like all the adults in your life are conspiring to keep life dull and uninspiring, you look to each other.

And say "Meep."

Frustrating Sunday

My mother bought the boys new bicycles for which I am very grateful. Tigger's bike is a Mongoose, which is a fairly big name for older kids who handle their bikes well and want to do tricks on them. The bikes were fully assembled by the store where they were purchased, a chain store with an outlet not far from us.

As it happened, Tigger's bike needed the seat adjusted because it was too high for him. No one in our house who tried to adjust the seat could get the screw loose. So after my mother sent us the receipt, I took the bike back to my local version of the store. The plan was to zip down to the store, get the bike fixed or exchanged, go to the grocery store to pick up a roast chicken, and head home to put the roast in the oven so we could eat at a decent hour and have some reading time before the kids went to bed.

The store had a nifty little tool that allowed them to loosen the bolt, but even at its lowest point the seat was too high for TIgger. The seat sits on this pole-like thing that allows it to be adjusted, but the pole was too long to go low enough for Tigger's needs. I could either buy a new seat with a shorter pole, or have them cut the existing pole to a more usable length. They checked with their manager but they were not allowed to cut the pole for me.  Tigger and I left his bike at the store and went all over town looking for a store that had a different seat with a shorter pole. Turns out all the stores I went to (I couldn't find an actual bike store in all the mall madness, but I'm pretty sure they still exist), only had seats with no pole at all.

Finally, I wound up making another unplanned stop at the Home Depot looking for a pipecutter.  When I asked some guy if the thing I picked out was the right thing to have for the bike seat pole, he offered to cut the thing free of charge. OK, mission accomplished, but it took until nearly 5 PM to get what I needed. Don't worry, Home Depot, I bought nearly $100 worth of gardening stuff to make up for your guy not making me buy the pipecutter. After all, what am I going to do with a pipecutter after this? I guess I should have gone there first.

When I finally got to the grocery store, it was mobbed with lines of people with their carts overflowing. and it was nearly 6 PM by the time I got home.

So dinner was late, and by the time we got it too the table we had two tired and hungry and fussy kids who didn't enjoy one of their favorite meals.

Definitely a "harder than it had to be" day.