Pee monsters

I used to think kids were really ridiculously cute. That’s why I became a preschool teacher. I wanted to have 10 children in my class: 5 boys and 5 girls. Now, I’d prefer zero.

I don’t know if it’s worse because I happen to teach a bunch of poor kids or what, but every day is a nightmare. A daymare. One kid cries constantly — it amazes me how many tears can come out of that little body — while other boys fight over who gets to rub Barbie’s smooth private parts. Worse yet, this one kid, Jamarcus, always “accidentally” grazes against my boobs. And honestly, he looks a little too old to be in preschool to begin with. I swear I saw him sitting behind the wheel of an old Camaro idling outside my house. Creepy shit.

Still, the absolute worst part about my job is getting peed on. Happens at least once a day. These kids aren’t allowed in the bathroom by themselves yet, and they can’t seem to control their peeing organs. Although their moms always assure me they’re all perfectly potty-trained…

Anyway, I’ve resorted to getting all my clothes from the Salvation Army now, because I know I’ll be throwing them out in a matter of a few weeks anyway. At first I would throw out a peed-on article of clothing right away, but now I don’t throw anything out until it’s been peed on 5 times. And that’s disgusting, I know, but I really just don’t like going to the Salvation Army anymore. One of the homeless men who hangs out there asked me out, and I’m afraid I’ll get stabbed or something if I turn him down.

The flaw in this system, of course, was that the peed-on clothing made my whole apartment smell like piss. My roomates thought we had a cat or raccoon or some mysterious nighttime peeing animal problem. I even chipped in to pay for one of those pest control guys to come and set up a trap. I wasn’t about to admit that it was human kid pee–and it was on my clothes. The woefully imperfect solution I’ve come up with is to throw the peed-on pieces of clothing in one of those big ass ziploc plastic airtight bags. That way only I smell like piss. And that’s all a preschool teacher can hope for, right?


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