MAY 11, 2009 UNITED FRIENDS WRITERS GROUP CHALLENGE NUMBER ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY THREE....HOMEWORK IN THE 21ST CENTURY ! ? !

MAY 11, 2009
 UNITED FRIENDS WRITERS GROUP CHALLENGE NUMBER
 ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY THREE....
HOMEWORK IN THE 21ST CENTURY








Lockerridge's Challenge Write an amusing story about a homework assignment that you had as an elementary or high school student .Just write as if you were in your kitchen, relating the story, over a cup of coffee with good friends.



The following story is a blog I posted on Yahoo 360 a couple of years ago.  I have edited it, in hopes of improving its entertainment value, by using a few of the skills I have learned from being a part of this group. It is based on a true story and is the whole story., nothing has been changed to protect anyone,  because none of us were innocent!


HOMEWORK IN THE
 TWENTY FIRST CENTURY
     I have had something come home to me recently,  that concerns the type of homework assignments that are given to the young adults about to graduate from High School.

My stepson, Jeff,  is a class member of that group of elite males and females, in the long fought for, class of seniors this year.
 He is also a member of a class with the impressive sounding name of Parenting for Responsible Young Adults.
Hummm..... I am yet to be impressed.
My reasoning in my lack of enthusiasm is this..  he is taking the class along with 17 other seniors who had to take the class so they could actually fill in their school day to get to the next class, which is truly a worthwhile and needed class.. of  keyboarding.  The placement of the class at this particular time of day, forces these students to take it or not round out their schedules.. so in essence it is a forced fluff class that the state has demanded that the schools offer and no one wants to take.

Although this is evident to most anyone who has the brains to notice a bumble bee when it flies up your nose,  the teacher of this class,  takes it seriously.
 Very seriously!
 She managed to talk the school board into buying three, not one, but three  teaching tools called,  "real babies". The price that was paid for these teaching tools, was three hundred dollars a piece!
 What ever happened to the smelly memo-graphed sheets we used to get?
 They cost what?
Half a cent each? humm......
These baby dolls come in a variety of skin colors, and of course, both sexes. Jeff got a girl baby with caucasian skin color. They are anatomically correct as well as have the ability to scream bloody murder, drink a bottle and need a diaper change.
They also will report if you handle them roughly, do not see to their immediate cry of distress, and they will go into the worst kind of hiccuping squall if they need to be burped.
 Yes, I said burped.
 They also make a cooing sound
( sounds like Marilyn Monroe and her speech to Mr. President)...
eeeeeeewwwww!

  Every sound this "real baby", made of plastic and computer chips makes, he is supposed to record in a little book that comes in the diaper bag, that holds diapers with magnetic type closures, two bottles, each carrying a computer chip which communicates with a chip inside the doll.

He has a plastic bracelet with a magnetic key attached to it,  that is permanently, attached to his wrist, for the duration of the three day homework assignment.
 It is the only way to quiet the "real baby" when it gets wound up, or so the little direction booklet tells you.
(HA!)
The real bonus in this homework assignment is that this lovely, dedicated, totally serious teacher is the one who programs the way the "real baby" is timed to do all this wondrous responsibility inducing "stuff".
( I am excited, how about ya'll?)
After I found out this Dedicated Teacher is 25, single, and not a kiddie in sight, I was seriously considering getting a motel room for the 3 days of his homework assignment but, I didn't.
 I have to report, with my entire face hanging out for you to judge, that at 3:30 in the morning, being awakened by a 17 year old male who is almost crying, and the thing from the Chuckie factory is in full wailing mode, is not a pleasant experience, like say helping with trigonometry or physics homework!

 A  phone call at that time in the morning to Ms. Dedicated teacher, did cross my mind!
 Bowing to Jeff's begging me, to just make the thing shut up, and not get him placed on the, "No Christmas Card list",  of his teacher, I promised I would not make that desirous phone call.
 What's a Mom going to do?

That phone call would probably have been the highlight of my entire year.. but I am a wuss.. and I just tried to help him shut up, "The Cyber Horror From Hell", we had in our midst.

Throughout this entire happening, Jeff's' father slept on, blissfully unaware of the chaos surrounding him.
  I have never, in my whole entire time of being a parent, had a child act like this thing did! The pitch of the crying jag it was on, never altered. It was just a constant, and never changing scream! Lord have mercy, I did everything I knew a real baby would respond to. A change, to a hiccuping kind of scream instead of this banshee from hell, kind of mind scrambling thing, we had going on,  would have me feel as though my efforts were successful in some small  way at least.
 I know I shouldn't have, but I got a screwdriver and took the plate off the battery holder and took the batteries out of the thing!

Well a Mom's gotta do what a Mom's gotta do, ya know!
Wonderful silence reigned once again in my home, except for snores from the resident head male anyway.
Jeff,  poor guy, was grateful, but also apprehensive about what his teacher would think, and what kind of grade he would get because of the interference of his parent with his responsibility homework.

 I told him if she gave him any static whatsoever,  to call me, and I would be glad to have a talk with her, and the principal, or the superintendent, and I am best friends with the president of the school board!
If you have power in these situations.. USE IT!
After about 15 minutes, we put the batteries back in cautiously, hoping for a change in mood . Its' eyes rolled wide open, and then the *************ing thing cooed at us!
 We wrote it in the notebook.
 We didn't do anything..... Honest Injun.
 At least that is our story and we are sticking to it.
He had to work the next day, so this brought about cheat number two.  He figured out how to take the magnet part off the bracelet so I could babysit.

 I put "The Resident Evil",  on the bed and went about doing the laundry folding.  It watched me from its spooky plastic eyes, that follow you wherever you go in the room.
 I left the room and located my screwdriver and shoved it in my back pocket, for emergencies and stuff.

 Just in case it did turn out to be the Chuckie Clone, as I suspected....you understand I am sure.
Jeff called to see how his baby was doing, since she had a bad night the night before.
 Maybe this homework assignment has some redeeming qualities, but they are few and far between!

I made it till just about an hour before Jeff. was to be home, and the thing wanted to get a bottle.  It makes these little," gunk, gunk" sounds, and then it coos every minute or so....... and you have to document what sound and the time it makes it, in the little notebook. The thing drank and cooed for 30 minutes....  and then it wanted to be burped.
 But it would not burp.
 I walked around for another 30 minutes bouncing it on my shoulder, patting gently on its back.  Every time I quit walking and patting, the massive earsplitting squall resumed.

 Now remember I had to also write all this down in the book.
It was time for some rescue aide from the grandfather of "The Thing From Cyber Hell"!  To my surprise.. he was willing to help me.

 He even named her Jeffrine!

 Even though he tried all his fatherly tricks, the thing still was not cooperating.
 I suddenly remembered I needed bread, or milk, or maybe mouse traps, olives, crackers...  from the store.
I was not completely cruel..  I left him my screwdriver.
Jeff finally made it home and took over.   At 2 a.m. I was still awake, listening to Jeff trying his best to do the assignment correctly, and failing miserably.  I finally got up and gave him the screwdriver. He accepted it with a slight nod of thanks, and I left quietly while he did what had to be done.

Sure wished I had promised not to call Miss Dedicated Teacher... but a promise is a promise..
I didn't promise anything about taking on the entire school system if he got a failing grade .. though.. did I?
All in all, he got a 92 on his homework, and the teacher had no inkling that the batteries had been removed.

 I really regret not getting a recording of the banshee scream. It might be the piece of evidence that some future parent needs to get out of an assault and battery charge pressed by The Dedicated Teacher.
 Hey, I am always there for a fellow tortured parent if needed, don't cha know!
As for Jeff and I..
. We did nothing at all that was not within the guidelines ...
 We were responsible and took care of the "real baby", in the best and most successful parenting way known to any human being, taking care of a microchip and plastic "Chuckie Clone".
That's our story and we are sticking to it... forever!


The End
Terri McCain/lockerridge

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