Miss Jones had been giving her second-grade students a lesson on science. She had explained about magnets and showed how they would pick up nails and other bits of iron. Now it was question time, and she asked, "My name begins with the letter 'M' and I pick up things. What am I?" A little boy on the front row proudly said, "You're a mother!"

As a new school principal, Mr. Mitchell was checking over his school on the first day. Passing the stockroom, he was startled to see the door wide open and teachers bustling in and out, carrying off books and supplies in preparation for the arrival of students the next day. The school where he had been a Principal the previous year had used a check-out system only slightly less elaborate than that at Fort Knox. Cautiously, he asked the school's long time Custodian, "Do you think it's wise to keep the stock room unlocked and to let the teachers take things without requisitions?" The Custodian looked at him gravely... "We trust them with the children, don't we?"

A school teacher injured his back and had to wear a plaster cast around the upper part of his body. It fit under his shirt and was not noticeable at all. On the first day of the term, still with the cast under his shirt, he found himself assigned to the toughest students in school. Walking confidently into the rowdy classroom, he opened the window as wide as possible and then busied himself with desk work. When a strong breeze made his tie flap, he took the desk stapler and stapled the tie to his chest. He had no trouble with discipline that term.

My son, Mitchell, a kindergartener, practices spelling with magnetic letters on the refrigerator: "cat," "dog," "dad," and "mom" have been proudly displayed for all to see. One morning while getting ready for the day, Mitchell bounded into the room with his arms outstretched. In his hands were three magnetic letters: G-O-D. "Look what I spelled, Mom!" Mitch exclaimed, a proud smile on his face. "That's wonderful!" I said. "Now go put them on the fridge so Dad can see when he gets home tonight." That Christian education is certainly having an impact, I thought, happily. Just then, a little voice called from the kitchen. "Mom? How do you spell 'zilla?'"

Little Johnny had finished his summer vacation and gone back to school. Two days later his teacher phoned his mother to tell her that he was misbehaving. "Wait a minute," she said. "I had Johnny with me for three months and I never called you once when he misbehaved."

An English teacher often wrote little notes on student essays. She was working late one night, and as the hours passed, her handwriting deteriorated. The next day a student came to her after class with his essay she had corrected. "I can't make out this comment you wrote on my paper." The teacher took the paper, and after squinting at it for a minute, sheepishly replied, "It says that you need to write more legibly!"

A young student reported for a final examination that consisted of only true/false questions. The student took a seat in the hall, stared at the test for five minutes, removed a coin from his pocket and started tossing the coin and marking the answer sheet. Heads meant true, tails meant false. The young student finished the exam in 30 minutes, while the rest of the class was sweating it out. Suddenly, during the last few minutes, the young student began desperately throwing the coin and sweating profusely. The moderator, alarmed, approached the student and asked what was going on. "Well, I finished the exam in half an hour," said the student, "but I thought I ought to recheck my answers."

One morning a mother was trying to wake up her son. "Wake up now! It's time to go to school." "I don't want to go to school," the son replied. His mother said, "Give me two reasons why you don't want to go to school." "Okay. One, all the children hate me. Two, all the teachers hate me." "Not good enough," the mother replied. "Fine," the son said. "Then you give me two good reasons why I SHOULD go to school." "One, you're 50 years old. Two, you're the principal of the school."

The new family in the neighborhood overslept and their six-year-old daughter missed her school bus. The father, though late for work himself, had to drive her. Since he did not know the way, he said that she would have to direct him to the school. They rode several blocks before she told him to turn the first time, several more before she indicated another turn. This went on for 20 minutes - but when they finally reached the school, it proved to be only a short distance from their home. The father, much annoyed, asked his daughter why she'd led him around in such a circle. The child explained, "That's the way the school bus goes, Daddy. It's the only way I know."

Walking through the hallways at the middle school where I work, I saw a new substitute teacher standing outside his classroom with his forehead against a locker. I heard him mutter, "How did you get yourself into this?" Knowing that he was assigned to a difficult class, I tried to offer moral support. "Are you okay?" I asked. "Can I help?" He lifted his head and replied, "I'll be fine as soon as I get this kid out of his locker."