Picture Day...

...always provides great stories, and today was no exception.

Picture day always starts out innocently enough. My yard duty post was filled with many insightful observations:

1. The boy who can't seem to remember to turn in ANY homework has somehow managed to comb his hair AND wear a neatly pressed collared shirt.

2. The sweet little tomboy has curled her hair (Sound familiar Denise?)

3. There are still a few boys who managed to escape the house without running a comb through their hair.

4. Despite wearing their school day finest, none can be deterred from the magnetic pull of their respective recess activity preferences (football, basketball, soccer, chasing the girls into the bathroom, and the like)

The moment arrives:

So, when it was our turn to make our way into the multipurpose room, the madness began. You'd never think forming gender-specific lines would cause confusion, but on picture day, anything's possible. Once we managed to sort our lines correctly, we walked to the picture taking arena. Upon arrival, each student who wanted one (which was of course all of them) was given one of the ubiquitious black combs. The actual picture taking procedure went rather smoothly, but it was upon our return to class that things got a bit...hairy.

So those black combs...

One of my sweetest, most good-natured girls had a lovely hairstyle. Her mother had swept half of her hair back and had left a few thin whisps of hair hang free in the front. Well, during science, which immediately followed our pictures, my sweet, good-natured little girl had somehow managed to wind her hair through the comb in such a way that it was literally IMPOSSIBLE to remove. She wound it so tightly that it was securely stuck just past her forehead. I sent her to the bathroom with one of her friends to try to get it out...nothing. I sent her to call her mom...no one answered. Her friends worked on it again at lunch recess...still nothing. Finally, being the confident thing that she is, she decided that she would just wear the hood attached to her shirt until it was time to go home.

I have to give my class credit. No one really laughed at the situation, they just took the potential distraction in stride. My sweet little hooded student managed to make it through the day without an utterance of complaint. But... I am left to wonder if she will come to school with bangs tomorrow.