Say-ruh Hay-ruh

This guy is a shit head.

Monday morning, bell rings. Only half way through my coffee. Put on a happy face.

Student comes in, looking at me skeptically. Kids are always suspicious on a Monday morning, as if they expect the possibility of work to be assigned at any moment.

“Miss! What’s up with your hair? Yo Hay-ruh? What up? Every day your hairs are all over your head. Like an animal. A wild animal. With rabies. And on crack. Crack and meth. That’s how your hair is! But not today. Today it’s flat dead. Dead on your head! That’s how your hair is. Shot dead, stuffed and hanging on your head, like a moose over the fire place. Dead, Sarah Palin style! Say-ruh hay-ruh! What’s happenin’ to yo hay-ruh, Miss?! So…how was your weekend?”
School will be over in five short weeks.

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