So the other day, I was teaching, as usual, and the day was going pretty well, but I noticed that the kids seemed extra whiny. By the time I got to the end of the afternoon, I was sort of....well....let's say cranky, just to be nice.

Okay, no, I was pissed. They were all being uncooperative turds.

At any rate, my last student of the day that day is my problem child. She throws temper tantrums (full-on, on the floor, kicking and screaming) and she's 11. ELEVEN.

My mom would've murdered me if I would've acted this way at four. Much less eleven. Just saying.

Anyway, yeah. I wasn't having it. She wasn't having it. Five minutes in, I could tell that we were going to have a massive throw down, and I was probably going to lose because my hands are tied. Can't discipline anybody. I just have to wait out the clock.

So I asked what song she wanted to sing. She said, "Nnnngggggmmmmgggngngn."

I assume that means she wants me to pick, since I don't speak moron. So I suggest a song. She responds with a long, loud whine, and sits down on the floor.

Five minutes of whine-crying.

Not by me, FYI.

So I just ignore her. The situation does not improve, but I haven't killed her yet, so I figure I'm ahead. Then, I get a bright idea.

"Alright, get up. We're not doing this anymore, I have an assignment for you, and it's NOT OPTIONAL" I say, using my most authoritative voice, which I realize is somewhere between the tones of Buddy the Elf and Winnie the Pooh (it's really good that I don't have kids of my own, because I would fail at the discipline follow-through big time).

She stands up, but is still not thrilled with life. However, I have managed to get her off the floor, so I feel pretty good about that. I then inform her that we are going to sing her favorite song, "Who Will Buy?" from Oliver!

But with a difference...

I tell her she has to make up all new words, going along with the first line, which I tell her is now "Who Will Buy...This Wonderful Chicken?"

Yep. 

So I gave her a back story, all about a wonderful chicken who needs a home, but if the kid doesn't sell her to a nice family, she will have to go to the pound, because the kid who owns her has suddenly developed an allergy to feathers, and she is not an outdoor chicken, so this kid has got to convince someone to give her a good home.

And then, wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, the kid laughed and proceeded to make up words and have a stellar lesson. I mean, she cooperated for the next twenty odd minutes. First time EVER. And her song about the chicken was actually pretty awesome, but I did send her home with another assignment. Also involving chickens, but in a different song.

So now we are having a whole week of alternate lyric composition lessons. 

It seems silly, but it's actually really educational. It helps the kids figure out strong and weak beats and syllabic placement. It's like I'm tricking them into learning. Gasp.

And we'll see how Miss Poopypants is this week. I'm not expecting much, but that twenty minutes gave me a faint glimmer of hope.