Here's what I almost wrote in the school blog:

The following paragraph is a bit of history (via someone who lived it), followed by what is intended to be humor. For goodness sakes people, do you really think I'd do this? Seriously?

My father, aged 67, tells me frequently about his schooling in rural Kentucky, "way back when". He was a class clown, and the teachers knew it. He had one teacher with exceptional aim. Every time he acted up in her class, she took the piece of chalk she was using and threw it at him. It hit him every time, usually in the forehead. Sometimes, she would have an eraser in her hand instead of chalk. This would always hit his shirt, leaving a white smudge. Today, this kind of discipline is probably illegal. In fact, "probably" is too mild a term. "Definitely" represents the facts more accurately. Still, I wanted a bag of ping pong balls and a slingshot today. I wanted it badly. Visions of behavior correction from classrooms past danced through my head. I'm better now.

Please note that I don't think hitting students does much good, and that I wouldn't actually consider this in anything but jest. Please?

I hope you can all see why I didn't post it there. Instead, since I simply must (MUST) express this, I'll do it here, where they can't take it the wrong way. Here, I can also admit that I really *did* want to hit those "boys" with ping pong balls. My pen twitched as I wrote notes, as if any moment it might leap from my control and beat them across the backs of their heads. I restrained myself. Next time, I'm sitting in the other side of the room.

Pedagogy 1 is coming up, and I need to prepare for it. Ta.

End.