Thursday, March 18, 2010

Throwback Thursday - The Report Card

Every year you always had five dates circled on your calendar. The 4 report card days and the pom dance competition. (If you actually had a calendar you were a dork, and if you actually had a calendar and circled dates on it, then you were probably home-schooled).

I was always butter in school until the third grade ended, and for no reason they decided to stop giving out E's for effort. It was just too easy back then kid, you just raised your hand and the teacher always thought you were trying so hard. Its like when you run sprints slowly but you make a tired face so the coach thinks you're giving it your all.

Back then the daily agenda was simple; steal some chicken nuggets, pull cute girls hair, try not to piss myself when the bathroom pass was in use and raise my hand a few times  for participation points and boom . . . . all E's for a perfect report card. An if handing out real grades wasn't punishment enough, in math they started putting letters into the math problems. My teacher would always be like "Yo Hall Trane, what does 14 + Y = ?" I had no clue, so I usually just said "Ohh Dang Doo, I have no idea, I think you accidentally put a letter in there doo."

If you were like anything like me then you didn't call it report card day, you referred to it as "sprint to your mailbox and hide it from your parents day" I was a C average student, which is pretty respectable for most households, but I had a dad who never liked any grade that didn't rhyme with hay. So I usually hid my report card from my parents until my dad went out of town for business or until there was a family tragedy. I mean who can yell at you for bad grades when Grandpa Ernie just died, am I right?

4 comments:

Brad said...

Awesome article Hall Trane... I would have stopped 1.5 sentences earlier, but overall 5 stars.

Teacher: "Yo Hall Trane"
7 yr old Hall Trane: "Oh Dang Doo"

Hahahah

Brad said...
This post has been removed by the author.
BZ said...

I still remember my first C. Traumatic. But by the fourth or fifth one it started to become routine and comfortable. Nobody likes a brown-noser.

Bobby S said...

I loved Grandpa Ernie