Post-Vacay Blues

Day One Back on the Job

The college was out of session the Tuesday I got back from Britani's wedding, but not the GED department. We're dedicated to life-long learning in the Adult Education department. Anyway, apparently someone was hosting some big fanfare for the Junior Achievement program that Delgado hosts. They day started off nicely, when I was led to my classroom by a fifth grade marching band.

There are a significant number of pregnant women that pass through our GED programs. I'm not talking a small three or four months along. I'm talking the kind of pregnant where she is only 6 months along and looks like she's going to pop any minute sort of pregnant. And it has never even crossed my mind that a lady could be so pregnant that she might have her baby in my class. Thank God that isn't what happened. Close enough though.

There was a knock on the classroom door, and one of the janitors was there, asking for my boss. She wasn't there, so I stepped out into the hallway to see if I could handle the problem. The janitors and campus police have surrounded one of our students who is big pregnant and sitting in a chair. Sam, a female police officer, is asking the 19 year old girl questions and calling for an ambulance. Meanwhile, inside the classroom to which she belongs, testing is going on, and the teacher thinks she stepped out because she has gas.

Between campus police, the janitors, campus police, and me all pummeling her with questions, we got her into my empty classroom and called her mother. Suddenly, as if compelled by his spidey-sense, my boss Sean and father of 4 (with a fifth due any day), appears out of nowhere. He asks the poor girl question after question, and explains to her about what a contraction is about. I had to leave the room when he asked her, "Do you understand the birthing process?" As the only person without kids in the room, I was already uncomfortable. But there was no way in hell that I was going to take it to the limit and listen to Sean explain what was about to happen to this 19 year old girl's body.

The story resolves nicely. The girl is fine, the bun is in the oven, and I will never again listen to Sean talk about childbirth.