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What moments in your life just want to make you bang your head against a wall . . . or simply bury your face in your palm in a vain attempt to deny the reality of what you just saw or heard?

One of my memorable ones came a few years ago in an 8th grade history class I was teaching.  I had one girl who would ALWAYS ask, about halfway through class, to use the restroom (this class was last period of the day).  I kept hoping, in vain, that ONE day she would raise her hand to ask a question about what we were talking about, but no, it was always "Can I go to the bathroom?".  Finally, in frustration, I said near the end of the year that NO ONE could go to the bathroom, period, unless they first asked a question about the subject we were discussing.

  It was near the end of the last quarter.  For two weeks I had been discussing the buildup to the Civil War and the breakup of the Union.  I was now fighting my way through Grant's Wilderness campaign.  You must understand, I am not a boring, basketball coach history teacher.  I love my craft, and I am passionate about it! I am likely to climb on top of desks, or charge towards the front of the room, or give Lincoln's entire Second Inaugural address while standing on top of my chair.  I do my level best to be the kind of teacher that my students will tell their grandkids about.

  Now, as I am describing the Battle of the Wilderness and the horrors it involved, this young lady's hand shoots up.  With a smile, I said, "You have a question about the topic?"

Her face scrunched up, her brow furrowed, and then, suddenly, her face brightened.  "Mr Smith!" she said.  "Was it the North or the South that had the slaves?"







 :buggedout:
(I'd post a facepalm photo, but I don't have one saved on my hard drive.)

I would like you to be my child's history teacher...  :smile:



lol... since she is in 8th grade... I would tell her good question now write me a 1000 word essay why you dont know the answer... and I want it at the end of the week with your parents so we could talk about your bathroom problem... if you dont your not going to see high school.

PS... I still wouldnt let her go to the bathroom.

In a way it would be better if she knew the answer, but just said that so she could use the bathroom!

I think what she said to me after class that day was even worse:

"Don't take it personally, Mr. Smith.  I just don't care."


On the bright side, she is NOT back in my classroom this year.

Whenever the nurses at work do stupid things I facepalm.. if I'm not muttering "S**t!  You idiots!".  Not stupid things involving the care of the patients (thank God, because you'd probably never want to go to my hospital), but not properly disposing certain containers of patient fluids (yuck), or leaving the beds unstripped (not my job), or going home without putting their stuff in the trash and leaving it scattered on the floor, whatever.  Just dumb.  And I let them know; not that they're dumb (though obviously they are at times, and lazy too) but that they need to follow certain procedures.  A housekeeper having to tell the nurses that; that's just sad.

hi
I am the headteacher for a special needs school,and from time to time we have student teachers.I was relaxing one day with the teachers during our first respite period when i noticed one such student looking rather concerned. I asked her if she was enjoying being in the classroom,she turned to me and said she was concerned for one of my pupils  he was always following her and seemed to be afraid of the other children.This young lady then went on to mention he seemed very nervous and he was always "twiddling" his fingers and messing around with his hands.I was quite worried myself until she mentioned the child's name,the particular child in question has multi-sensory disabilities and he was merely communicating via sign language.This young lady gave me many facepalm moments.

Oh retrorussell, I know exactly what you mean: my first summer job when I was in school was on housekeeping at a local hospital.  The only mess worse that what the nurses sometimes left was the floors of the chronic wards on the days they had peas and carrots for lunch.  (I swear those oldsters had food fights!)

My most recent facepalm moment:  

We have bags we can put on horses' tails in order to keep them clean and untangled.  They are long and narrow and tie in to the tail hairs at the top.   A person mentioned using one and how she had been tying knots in it to close up some holes...until she realized that it was making the bag heavier.  So she stopped doing that.

Umm.  Yeah.

A few years ago we had a big wind storm that knocked the power out for a couple days.  It also blew a limb off our apple tree.  Having little else to do (Once we'd transferred all the food from the refrigerator into coolers), I got the chainsaw out and was all ready to start cutting up the fallen limb.  My, um...electric chainsaw.

 :teddyr: :teddyr:

I work tech support, I facepalm at least 3 times a day.

Well, I'm confused now. Which was it?

As an addendum, at least 3 times a day I have to SPELL the name "Ed"

Looking at the last comic page I inked, I face-palmed. My first couple of classes of figure drawing have shown me just how very off my perspective and characters' proportions were. Alas, I'd already inked the outlines; I just finished the shading, put it online, and vowed to be much more attentive in regards to those two issues in the future.

Me too.  I'm a computer operator at a manufacturing plant.  And I usually do a facepalm at least three times a day, but usually it's a few more.  Especially when I hear of some of the antics of the first shift guy from the lady who works overnight.

Another one yesterday . . .

I was in class discussing the origins of the French and Indian War, turning it into a story as I always do.  It was going something like this . . .

"So the governor of Virginia is looking for a volunteer to lead an expedition to tell the French to keep out of the Ohio River Valley, because that was Virginia's turf, right?  And the commander of the Virginia militia was too old and sick to lead the expedition.  Then this youngster, 23 years old and a lowly lieutenant in the militia, steps forward and volunteers.  Says he knows the area very well because he helped survey it a couple years before.  Governor Dinwiddie looks him over and sees a young, brash fellow who is 6' 4" tall and has all the characteristics of a born leader.  So he takes a chance and places this young guy in command of 300 frontier militia members with instructions to head over the mountains and tell the French to scram.  And it was this same 6 foot 4 inch redhead who would, one day, go on to become the first President of the United States!"

At which one of my 8th graders brightly chirped:  "Abraham Lincoln!!!"



Facepalm!

 :bouncegiggle: :bouncegiggle: Sorry man, but that was FUNNY! (P.S. it was WASHINGTON!)