This One Time, At English Class...

So today my 11th grade (male) student J.A. walked into my 4th hour and said Ms. TeacherMommy, I need you to help me with my pants!

Hmm. I was a little taken aback. I mean, that's the sort of thing that lands educators in the newspapers, if you know what I mean. The other students in the classroom goggled and giggled. Great, now I had witnesses.

Um, WHAT? I said.

I need you to fix my pants! he said, with an earnestness I don't normally hear in his voice.

I might need to stop and explain that this particular student is one half of one of the many couples I have in this particular hour. It's a bit bizarre, really. They're all attached at the hip and nearly the lip, and I even posted a poem over at Secret Spineless Whine yesterday about this particular couple. J.A. isn't normally the type to ask me for any help, if you get my meaning.

Anyhow, he advanced toward me, clutching his huge black jeans (seriously, this baggy jean thing is getting awfully old) in a rather odd way.

These broke! he said, demonstrating two belt loops dangling mournfully from the top of the waistband, And I can't keep my pants up. Can you fix it?

I looked at him, nonplussed. Um, what do you want me to do? I asked, eying him askance. I mean, that's not exactly a place I normally touch students.

Can you sew them? he said, glancing at my cross stitch where it lay upon my desk.

This needle is an embroidery needle. It isn't sharp--it wouldn't do anything, I replied.

After a fruitless search for safety pins or a sewing kit or anything else along these lines, I was at a loss. I started wondering where I could get a hold of some duct tape so we could wrap him up like a broken pipe.

Finally another student came to his rescue, offering some safety pins she keeps around for making friendship bracelets.

I think you should probably have your girlfriend put those in, I remarked, unwilling to put my hands anywhere on his person.

Next thing I knew, he was standing in the back of the room with his girlfriend kneeling before him. Needless to say, the room started erupting in giggles and ribald remarks.

I can't look! I said, shielding my eyes. This just isn't something I'm used to seeing in my classroom, much less contributing to!

I'm just fixing his pants! C.C., his girlfriend, protested.

Is that what they're calling it these days? said another girl dryly.

AHHHH! J.A. yelped suddenly, leaping back a few feet. SHE POKED ME!

The classroom lost it. So did I.

Finally, when I could catch my breath, I suggested he go to the boys restroom (I'm afraid your girlfriend is not going to be able to help you this time, I said), remove the pants, fix the remaining belt loop, and return to the classroom.

We managed to calm down and get back to business (a.k.a. Macbeth) by the time he returned.

Sometimes it's just hard to stay in a bad mood around here.