At the end of a trimester, things are always a bit...dramatic. As the slow, deliberate cultivation of procrastination begins to bear pendulous fruit, an air of expectation fills the air. And by "expectation", I mean, "slowly-sinking despair". The kind of despair felt by children who expect to never see their iPhone again.
Cue the requests for Hurculean assistance:
"Mrs. W, I need a list of all my missing assignments. All 22 of them. If I turn them in tomorrow, can you grade them before my mom checks my grades tomorrow afternoon?"
"I need you to print out the directions for the major project we did 4 months ago based on the science unit about evolution that I can't even remember learning about. If I get an A on the project, will it raise my grade to at least a C?"
"Can you photocopy the missing homework assignment you gave me 5 times last month? You seem to be out of extra copies."
"Would you give me some extra credit assignments to help raise my son's grade from an F to a B? We're hoping to get him into WorkYouToDeath academy next year, and we don't want them to think he isn't capable of keeping up."
Thank God spring break is next week.