why i love(?) teaching, exhibit c

Our school doesn't have locker rooms for the visiting team; therefore, our teams humbly give up their locker rooms so the other team can change. Therefore... select teachers' rooms are used by our students as changing rooms. And my room was the chosen one for the varsity boys' basketball team this year.

All throughout the season, I've endured jokes from my students:
"I wouldn't sit in your chair! So-and-so changed there last night!"
"I hope you washed all of these desks! Our jerseys get really sweaty!"

You know, totally appropriate comments from teenage boys.

Additionally, the game plans are always left on my whiteboard. Written with my markers. Now, I try not to be possessive... but, we're a small Christian school in a tough economy. Those markers need to last me through the end of the year. And seriously? DO NOT MESS WITH ENGLISH TEACHERS AND OUR WRITING UTENSILS! (Okay, a little possessive.)

So, I walk into my classroom this morning, and the first thing I see is a board full of game plans from Friday night's game. Then I see that my beloved chair is not behind my desk. And on the floor, at the foot of my desk... is a pair of boys' underwear. Oh, correction - boys' compression shorts. Big difference! Some teenage boy's nasty, sweaty, basketball behind was in that clothing item that is currently resting on my floor! By my desk!

Naturally, I drowned my stress in verse.

Limerick #1
There once was a basketball boy
Who thought to fill my morning with joy.
So, the game being o'er,
He left his drawers on my floor.
Upon seeing them today, I exclaimed "Oy!"

Limerick #2
There once was a young female teacher
Who cheered on her kids from the bleacher.
Little did she know
One would bestow
His garmets where they almost could reach her.

.
Did I share these with my classes today? Obviously. Did the students love them? Obviously. Did they love even more the fact that someone's underwear compression shorts were left by my desk? Yes, yes they did.

Several of my junior boys on the team postulated various underclassmen as the offenders, but I assured them that I had no desire to discover the owner's identity. In the end, the athletic director donned some gloves and removed the item from my room, with the same precaution that one would handle, say, a lone opossum in one's apartment.