Alan"We are very excited for you to start with us Mr. King. The previous fifth grade teacher, Mr. Wormon, has decided last minute that he no longer wanted to teach, so circumstances have you starting sooner rather than later." Mr. Moley the school principal tells me.It's Sunday morning and I was asked to come down this morning to start my paperwork and get them everything they would need for me to start by tomorrow. It's not normally how it's done but I know they are shorthanded at the moment. Plus, to be honest, I don't mind one bit. I'm eager to get started and to meet my new students.I've been here for two days now and although the first night was of me getting settled in and resting. I thought the next day would bring me a surprise I've been waiting on. Laynie and Jared came over to bring me dinner but when I asked Laynie about Anna, she just lowered her head and shook it.The girl has been avoiding me like the plague since I moved out here but when I told Laynie that, she s

Alan "Good job today guys. See you tomorrow." I say to my new class as they nearly trip over each other trying to run out of the classroom. Today was my first day and it went so much better than expected. Back home in Minneapolis I had a class where I only taught social studies, but the school systems are so much different here. I have these amazing kids all day long and I am supposed to teach all subjects. Though I'm a bit rusty, and it's gotten a bit challenging, I was proud of my first day.Growing up with all little sisters I was able to tell right away how each student was going to be. Fifth grade is an interesting age group. It's where you can potentially meet your future friends and it's also where you truly start to find yourself. I remember being in fifth grade and deciding for myself that being a teacher is what I wanted to be. I had a workshop teacher, Mr. Dunlap, who taught me that I didn't have to be the stereotypical jock just because I played football and had parent

Alan"Who can tell me the story of Romeo and Juliet?" I wait for the snickers to stop. I don't know what it is with kids and the story of Romeo and Juliet that have them snickering, laughing and blushing all at once. My previous class was the exact same way. I ask the question again once the class has settles down, and a girl raises her hand first."Yes, Merith."Merith lowers her hand and answers with a shy voice."Um, I think it's a love story. Romeo and Juliet love each other but their families don't like each other so they go behind their families backs and kiss." My lips turn up at her description.A few boys look at one another in the back corner with their mouths turned up in disgust. Ah, to be the age where you think all girls are absolutely discussing. Hard to believe in a few years those boys will be chasing these girls down instead."That's pretty accurate Merith. It's a tragic story derived from William Shakespeare." I begin telling the class the story of the doom

AlanThe week is finally over, and I think I am more excited than the kids. The final bell rings and the kids jump up out of their seats and run towards the exit. I normally keep them for a few seconds to finish up my last-minute thought and what their homework will be, but today is different. As soon as the last student leaves, Peter, I grab my briefcase and begin walking out of the room as well. I have a ton of work to grade and lots of prepping for Monday, but I want to get it all done today because this weekend will be jammed with just about everything under the sun.Dad called me last night, told me that Sunday was the day he has the meeting with the committee on the homeless project in downtown Manhattan. He is going to fly each of my sisters out to help with the day as well. Dad told me that on that day, not only will we meet with the committee members, but also go around to the shelters and see what we can do to help. With Christmas coming up and the weather out here gettin

AlanEver wonder why alarm clocks are supposed to make the most annoying noise known to man? The question hits my mind this morning for about thirty seconds before I grabbed the damn thing and threw it against the wall. Stupid clock.Five minutes later, I felt about ten pokes on my face and tried my hardest to thwart the hand away from my face, but the finger just kept coming back to me.I open my eyes and peer at the blurry figure in front of me and when I see none other than my mother standing there with a tray of waffles, I nearly jump out of my skin."What the hell ma? What are you doing in my apartment?" I use all the blankets I can, to ball with my hands and cover my body. There is something just wrong about being a grown ass man waking up to your mother and breakfast when you have a morning erection because you spent all night and most of the morning thinking about a certain blonde-haired beauty."Oh please, Bean. I birthed you. I spent twelve solid straight hours in the