<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475</id><updated>2009-02-20T15:54:22.370-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ClassroomKlassics</title><subtitle type='html'>Hilarious and true stories from a public school teacher in a major US city.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>137</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-5986944069641720307</id><published>2007-06-13T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T18:25:13.919-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN BOYS AND GIRLS</title><content type='html'>I was teaching "family life" and being very careful to use the correct terms.  I pointed to a diagram of female breasts and before I could say a word, a loud mouth boy yelled out "I know.  I know. Those are the female breasticles!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-5986944069641720307?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/5986944069641720307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=5986944069641720307&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/5986944069641720307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/5986944069641720307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/06/difference-between-boys-and-girls.html' title='THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN BOYS AND GIRLS'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-6462821362095649241</id><published>2007-06-03T16:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-03T16:53:49.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>P</title><content type='html'>My 2nd graders were learning the state capitols.  "Class, can anyone tell me the capitol of Pennsylvania?"  A little girl piped up "It's P!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-6462821362095649241?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/6462821362095649241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=6462821362095649241&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/6462821362095649241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/6462821362095649241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/06/p.html' title='P'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-1608181877523232067</id><published>2007-06-03T14:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-03T14:31:17.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BABY TALK</title><content type='html'>I was teaching human development to 3rd graders.  One little boy said his Mom just had a baby and she was so cute and tiny - 5 pounds.  Another boy stood up and boasted that HIS MOM had a baby a few months ago and that he weighed ten pounds.  "My," I commented, "that's a big boy!"  He puffed out his chest and said "Yup, My Dad says you only get out of something what you put into it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-1608181877523232067?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/1608181877523232067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=1608181877523232067&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/1608181877523232067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/1608181877523232067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/06/baby-talk.html' title='BABY TALK'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-7475255215370848536</id><published>2007-05-23T16:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T16:49:15.242-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NOT WHAT I MEANT!</title><content type='html'>I teach art.  My first day of school, I was busy preparing all my materials and the principal came walking in to ask if I needed anything.  He was handsome,  newly single and I felt like a schoolgirl around him.  Anyway, he said "Anything I can do for you?"  I said "Can I get felt?"  There was a pregnant silence with me feeling very foolish and the color creeping up my neck.  After what seemed like an eternity he said that I'd find felt squares in the supplies cabinet and then he got out of there as fast as he could.  I cringe to this day when I think of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-7475255215370848536?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/7475255215370848536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=7475255215370848536&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/7475255215370848536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/7475255215370848536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/05/not-what-i-meant.html' title='NOT WHAT I MEANT!'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-6620898453990645492</id><published>2007-05-13T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-13T18:28:02.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>GLANDS</title><content type='html'>I was teaching nutrition and explaining that another reason people become overweight was because of an underactive thyroid.  A little girl asked "Oh, is that why my THIGHS are so big?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-6620898453990645492?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/6620898453990645492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=6620898453990645492&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/6620898453990645492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/6620898453990645492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/05/glands.html' title='GLANDS'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-8599483261776476294</id><published>2007-04-30T18:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T18:19:15.141-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DO YOU HAVE ANY FUNNY TEACHING STORIES?</title><content type='html'>Do you have any funny teaching stories? Why not join others, worldwide, who have dared to share? Stories must be true, funny and will remain anonymous to protect the guilty! Simply click "comments" below and then click on "anonymous" to share your tales or write to us at &lt;a href="mailto:classroomklassics@yahoo.com"&gt;classroomklassics@yahoo.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lwf&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-8599483261776476294?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/8599483261776476294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=8599483261776476294&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/8599483261776476294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/8599483261776476294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/04/do-you-have-any-funny-teaching-stories_30.html' title='DO YOU HAVE ANY FUNNY TEACHING STORIES?'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-7653569972808542779</id><published>2007-04-30T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T18:15:24.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FIRE!</title><content type='html'>The fire dept. had come to do a safety presentation to a group of 12 and 13 year old boys. The students were very interested and after the presentation they dutifully sat in a semi circle on the ground outside while the fireman pointed out the various and impressive features of the firetruck. All was well until the fireman said "Boys, I want you all to look over here at my hose." One boy leapt to his feet, his face reflected his amazement "Where's a ho? You brought a ho here for real?" he said. My face was as red as the firetruck.  The fireman managed to keep a straight face.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-7653569972808542779?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/7653569972808542779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=7653569972808542779&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/7653569972808542779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/7653569972808542779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/04/fire.html' title='FIRE!'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-7862077601974640186</id><published>2007-04-30T18:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T18:09:45.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FOOTBALL VS. HISTORY</title><content type='html'>I assigned my 8th graders a research paper that was to be written on a historical event in U.S. History, prior to WWll, that had a significant impact on our nation.  As I was reading off some of the possible events I said, "The Dustbowl."  In the back of the room a young man shouted out "Oh, Oh, Mrs. X!  Who won the Dustbowl?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-7862077601974640186?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/7862077601974640186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=7862077601974640186&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/7862077601974640186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/7862077601974640186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/04/football-vs-history.html' title='FOOTBALL VS. HISTORY'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-1837554383045908483</id><published>2007-04-30T18:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T18:05:25.939-07:00</updated><title type='text'>YOU TAKE MY BREATH AWAY</title><content type='html'>I was subbing a special ed class of emotionally disturbed kids, when on e of them, I'll call him Brian, got up and started to wander around the room.  I was told to be stern with him, and not let him wander.  So, I walked over to him, and told him to sit down.  He ignored me, so I got closer to him.  "Sit down," I said.  He stopped wandering, but didn't sit.  I got closer, "Sit down,"  I repeated.  He just looked up at me, almost daring me.  I wasn't going to back down, so I got into his face, almost nose to nose, and said again very sternly, "Brian, sit down."  He looked at me a moment then simply said, "Whoa, somebody needs a tic-tac." (breath mint)  I nearly bit my tongue to stop from laughing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-1837554383045908483?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/1837554383045908483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=1837554383045908483&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/1837554383045908483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/1837554383045908483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/04/you-take-my-breath-away.html' title='YOU TAKE MY BREATH AWAY'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-3322031952722553203</id><published>2007-04-26T09:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T09:55:02.652-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FIELD DAY</title><content type='html'>I am a sixth grade teacher.  Every year we take a field trip to a local theme park.  Every year the rules are the same.  There is no eating or drinking on the bus allowed.  This is not to be cruel but it is only a twenty minute ride and, from experience, I know what a mess the kids can make.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the students were lining up and I noticed Joey with a 2 Liter bottle of coke and a large bag or Oreo cookies.  I reminded him "no eating or drinking on the bus."  He protested that he didn't want to waste the goodies so I said "either eat them now or throw them out."  He went to the back of the line and I forgot all about it.  Fortunately, a volunteer parent was in charge of his group.    About mid morning I was seated on a bench, close to the ferris wheel.  I heard a commotion and looked up in time to see that grossness had fallen from the sky and landed on a group of tourists.  As I looked up higher I saw where the cola/cookie mess had originated.  Joey had vomited from the very top of the ferris wheel.  I said a silent prayer that I was not assigned to his group.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-3322031952722553203?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/3322031952722553203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=3322031952722553203&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/3322031952722553203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/3322031952722553203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/04/field-day.html' title='FIELD DAY'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-6944204535913913793</id><published>2007-04-26T09:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T09:47:17.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HIGH TECH SOLUTION</title><content type='html'>I am a tech teacher in an elementary school.  I had a class of second graders and one child was complaining that his computer was frozen.  He is a really intelligent child and since I was engaged in solving another computer problem at that time, I told him to "wiggle your mouse."  A few minutes later, thinking the problem had been solved I walked over to him and noted his jaw was moving frantically.  "Michael?"  He looked up at me, very frustrated "it's not working!"  Next time I'll be sure to make sure my students hear MOUSE and not MOUTH!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-6944204535913913793?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/6944204535913913793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=6944204535913913793&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/6944204535913913793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/6944204535913913793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/04/high-tech-solution.html' title='HIGH TECH SOLUTION'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-6366790752323824158</id><published>2007-04-07T15:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:21:32.974-07:00</updated><title type='text'>GREEN ELEVEN</title><content type='html'>I used to work with a teacher who was squeamish.  When a kid was sporting a runny nose, she would quietly come up to me, gagging and say "quick, green eleven, get tissue!" before running from the room.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-6366790752323824158?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/6366790752323824158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=6366790752323824158&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/6366790752323824158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/6366790752323824158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/04/green-eleven.html' title='GREEN ELEVEN'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-8293377391905943434</id><published>2007-04-07T15:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:19:43.979-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CRAFTY KIDS</title><content type='html'>I knew a teacher who would refer to the CRAFTY ones.  One day she admitted it was in reference to the students who CAN'T REMEMBER A F_____ING THING!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-8293377391905943434?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/8293377391905943434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=8293377391905943434&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/8293377391905943434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/8293377391905943434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/04/crafty-kids.html' title='CRAFTY KIDS'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-4582512408894463418</id><published>2007-03-29T16:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T16:17:12.572-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HO HO HO</title><content type='html'>I was working as a long term sub with a very refined, older teacher. She was close to retirement.  It bugged me that she would refer to kids as that "elf" Johnny or that "elf" Susie, etc.  On my last day I said to her "I am curious why you call the students elf this or elf that.  "Ahhh" she said, with a twinkle in her eye.  "ELF stands for EVIL LITTLE F___CKER!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-4582512408894463418?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/4582512408894463418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=4582512408894463418&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/4582512408894463418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/4582512408894463418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/03/ho-ho-ho.html' title='HO HO HO'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-2456778915894831912</id><published>2007-03-07T18:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:26:16.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A CHRISTMAS STORY</title><content type='html'>I am Catholic but work at a jewish school as a P.E. teacher. One day a first grader asked me why I didn't wear a yarmulke. "I'm not jewish", I replied. "Oh, you must be Christmas" was his knowing response.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-2456778915894831912?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/2456778915894831912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=2456778915894831912&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/2456778915894831912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/2456778915894831912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/03/christmas-story.html' title='A CHRISTMAS STORY'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-3384464631693831043</id><published>2007-03-01T12:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T12:55:30.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE APPLE DOESN'T FALL FAR FROM THE TREE</title><content type='html'>I had a very disorganized 3rd grader in my class last year.  I sent home two written reminders and finally called and left a message on the voice mail at home to please send in the permission slip for the field trip.  The next day I got a scrawled note "sorry, can't find the permission slip  but I  do give permission for my son to attend, etc......"    It was written on the back of the permission slip I'd sent home!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-3384464631693831043?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/3384464631693831043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=3384464631693831043&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/3384464631693831043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/3384464631693831043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/03/apple-doesnt-fall-far-from-tree.html' title='THE APPLE DOESN&apos;T FALL FAR FROM THE TREE'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-1893731724186590357</id><published>2007-03-01T12:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T12:51:56.464-08:00</updated><title type='text'>GLASSES</title><content type='html'>I was preparing to read my first grade class "The Speckled Hen."  Before beginning I asked if anyone could tell me what "speckled" meant.  "It means he wears glasses!" said a little girl in the back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-1893731724186590357?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/1893731724186590357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=1893731724186590357&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/1893731724186590357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/1893731724186590357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/03/glasses.html' title='GLASSES'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-7673963705190746762</id><published>2007-02-28T15:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-28T16:00:07.754-08:00</updated><title type='text'>GOOD SAMARITAN</title><content type='html'>Our third grade class was discussing being a good samaritan.  For the sake of discussion I asked "if you saw a person injured, lying on the sidewalk, what would you do? "  A girl called out "I'd throw up!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-7673963705190746762?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/7673963705190746762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=7673963705190746762&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/7673963705190746762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/7673963705190746762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/02/good-samaritan.html' title='GOOD SAMARITAN'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-2176552047216245144</id><published>2007-02-28T15:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-28T15:57:42.423-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LOT'S WIFE</title><content type='html'>The Sunday teacher was describing how Lot's wife looked back and turned into a pillar of salt, when little Jason inturrupted "my Mom looked back when she was driving and she turned into  a telephone pole!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-2176552047216245144?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/2176552047216245144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=2176552047216245144&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/2176552047216245144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/2176552047216245144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/02/lots-wife.html' title='LOT&apos;S WIFE'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-117138842569907198</id><published>2007-02-13T09:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-13T09:40:25.710-08:00</updated><title type='text'>GIVING IT UP FOR LINT</title><content type='html'>I was teaching Sunday school and Lent was approaching.  I asked if anyone could tell me about Lent. A little girl eagerly raised her hand and stood up.  "Yes," she said proudly, "Lent is what my Mom picks out of the dryer."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-117138842569907198?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/117138842569907198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=117138842569907198&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/117138842569907198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/117138842569907198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/02/giving-it-up-for-lint.html' title='GIVING IT UP FOR LINT'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-117029332899033137</id><published>2007-01-31T17:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T17:28:48.990-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LUNCH?</title><content type='html'>I was five months pregnant and working with three and four years old in a preschool class.  I didn't see the need to announce my pregnancy to children that young and besides, the kids seemed oblivious.  One day as the class was dismissing a little boy asked me why my belly was so fat.  I told him that it wasn't fat, there was a baby in there!  He took off like a bat out of hell without saying a word.  Fortunately, his Mom was just arriving to pick him up.  The next day when she brought him in he wouldn't let go of her hand and enter the classroom.  His grinning Mom took me aside to explain.  "He's afraid of you because he thinks you eat babies!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-117029332899033137?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/117029332899033137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=117029332899033137&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/117029332899033137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/117029332899033137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/01/lunch.html' title='LUNCH?'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-117029300427422205</id><published>2007-01-31T17:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T17:23:24.293-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE TOUGH GUY</title><content type='html'>Years ago I taught middle school in a  rough part of town. A young male teacher was assigned the very worst class of rowdy boys.  He wore a plaster cast over his upper body, concealed by his shirt. He had recently had spinal surgery. On the first day of school he had the window open and his tie kept blowing around.  Unfazed, he made eye contact with a streetwise kid in the front row, picked the stapler off his desk and stapled the flapping tie to his chest.  Stunned silence and very few behavior problems in that class after that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-117029300427422205?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/117029300427422205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=117029300427422205&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/117029300427422205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/117029300427422205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/01/tough-guy.html' title='THE TOUGH GUY'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-116916451007263751</id><published>2007-01-18T15:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T17:31:54.663-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SNEEZE</title><content type='html'>I was greeted  by an eager 5th grade boy.  He came towards me, filled with anticipation and wanting to tell me something.  As he got very close he suddenly sneezed, twice and I was covered.  Ewwww.  I said "Kirk, that was very impolite and also very poor hygiene.  What did you get on me?"  He looked very solemn as he mopped himself off and said "your nerves?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-116916451007263751?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/116916451007263751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=116916451007263751&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/116916451007263751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/116916451007263751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/01/sneeze.html' title='SNEEZE'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-116916426879977351</id><published>2007-01-18T15:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-18T15:51:08.813-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I WANT ONE TOO!!</title><content type='html'>I was giving directions to my class of second graders.  A boy in the front row turned to his classmate and said "I just love it when she gives out erections."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-116916426879977351?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/116916426879977351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=116916426879977351&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/116916426879977351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/116916426879977351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-want-one-too.html' title='I WANT ONE TOO!!'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18443475.post-116749300044422890</id><published>2006-12-30T07:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-30T07:36:40.463-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WHAT A DIFFERENCE A DAY MAKES</title><content type='html'>My friend was teaching a class of four year olds the concept of a calendar.  She patiently explained the days of the week, months, etc. In an effort to convey where the class was on that particular day she pointed to that date and said "where are we NOW?"  A child raised his hand and said "Virginia!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18443475-116749300044422890?l=murphywren.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/feeds/116749300044422890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18443475&amp;postID=116749300044422890&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/116749300044422890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18443475/posts/default/116749300044422890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murphywren.blogspot.com/2006/12/what-difference-day-makes.html' title='WHAT A DIFFERENCE A DAY MAKES'/><author><name>teacherx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11017665572747663955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382279262684130108'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry></feed>