I want to start by saying I love my job. I know many people can't say that, but I do. I love the kids I get to see every day, and the fact that when I walk in to my classroom at 9 o'clock every morning 20 chipper little voices yell my name, and tell me how great I look or they like my hair, or just that they love me. Through out my day I am hugged, and loved, and told that I am loved. They are 20 little rye’s of sunshine that make my life so wonderful... With all this said, today I had to clean up poop*! Like literal poop*! I had the sweetest of little boys transferred into my class when we got back from the Christmas break. He is on what we in the education field call an IEP. Basically its special ed. Anywho, this sweet little boy has very little language, and a hard time letting us know when he needs to go to the bathroom. At the end of every day it's me and one other teacher, and usually about 12 kids, and we can't really leave each other alone with the kids. Well my sweet little guy was acting funny, and I'm not gonna lie walk funny, so I took to the bathroom, where he spent 5 minutes going to the bathroom, and then I realized he had shat in his pants. Not only was there poo in his underwear, it was caked on his bottom, and nether region, as well as on the toilet seat. It took me 5 minutes to clean the poor kid up, and when it was done, he looked up at me with his sweet, tear filled eyes (he had a constipation issue), and said "Thanks". Although I spent a good long time cleaning and smelling this kids shit, he truly was thankful for what I did. Its moments like this I love my job.
(*Word has been changed from original post upon request of Craig S. Ogan)
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