BitterSweetLife

Someone else's runaway student sticks his head in the door of my classroom and looks around.

"Who's the new kid?"
"That's the substitute teacher."
"Oh." He grins stupidly, and I shoot him the don't-mess-with-me look I've learned on the rough streets of urban Kansas City. "Can I help you?" I say.
"Uh, no."
I wave goodbye and he disappears.

Another day in the subbing life, another mistaken identity. Maybe I should start wearing a tie to work. Either that or start penciling in some extra lines on my forehead in the morning to keep up with these older-than-their-years high school students.

Then again, keeping these kids slightly off-balance doesn't hurt. Let the confusion continue. ;)