The old paper airplane trick

In one middle school, they have a class called "Mentorship" which is a 30 minute period on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Everyone in the school has it at the same time, and all the grades (6-8) are mixed together. I'm not too sure what usually goes on in this class, and the teachers never seem to leave any instructions or lesson plan for it. So the first time I had one, I just told the students they could talk quietly at their desks.
The kids were being pretty calm so I relaxed and started looking at a sheet or something on my clipboard while I was standing at the front of the class. It was a rare moment that I had shifted my focus from the students to something else. Instead of looking up every 5 seconds or so, I got lost in this sheet for a good 20 or 30 seconds. Well I guess kids are like wild animals, and if I was in a cage with a bunch of lions I sure wouldn't look down for more than a split second! Those unsupervised seconds ended when a piece of paper knocked into me and fell to the floor. It was a paper airplane!
Kids actually do that? I marveled. Kids STILL do that? Apparently.
Right away a few of the boys who were sitting directly in front of me started pointing and blaming the two boys in the back of their rows. One boy had a paper airplane in his hand. But, his plane was made with lined paper. The plane that hit me was graph paper. The other boy had graph paper on his desk. It was quite a mystery. But since I didn't have my fingerprinting kit with me, I gave up on CSI-ing it any further.
In the end I wound up telling the two boys I'd be leaving a note for their teacher with their names. I had no idea if this was an offense meriting a trip to the Dean's Office or if that would be going overboard.
So I learned that kids smell freedom (even if it comes from merely a few seconds of distraction) like lions smell prey. Stay attentive no matter what's going on.

Wardrobe Malfunction

It was my first day of training to be a substitute teacher for the Clark County School District. I got there early in order to have the required TB test done. You know, the thing where they poke you in the arm (sometimes it's a 3-prong, in this case it was just a regular needle) and then in 3 days they look at it to see if there was a reaction. When it was my turn to get poked, I started pushing up my sleeve and realized I couldn't! My nice, teacherly, new long sleeved top from Old Navy had a hem around the wrist that prevented it from stretching. I couldn't get it more than an inch above my wrist. But the needle had to go near my elbow area. Uh-oh!
After contemplating ripping my nice shirt, I decided my only option would be to start undressing. I asked the nurse if I could just pull my arm out, and she looked kind of dumbfounded. She looked around (there were lots of people around, but not too many right there) as I slid my arm out the bottom of my shirt.
So that was a fun way to start a new job! I told the cashiers at Old Navy the story the next time I was there (I happened to be wearing the same shirt). They seemed to get a kick out of it!