The time change did not agree with Z, one of my favorite homeroom students. Because Z requires self-contained classes, I only get to see him in the morning, but I always enjoy those few minutes. He gets to the room a little before the other students, and it is then we usually have our most interesting conversations.
"I want to throw my iPad out the window," he told me a couple weeks ago.
"Okay!" I answered, "Let me do it for you." And I opened the hopper window next to him and slid his device between the glass and the screen. Then I locked the window. There was no way he could reach it.
"No!" he said, "I want to throw it out to the parking lot!"
"We can't" I shrugged, "because of the screen."
"Oh," he sighed. "Then can I have it back?"
"Are you going to follow the directions?" I asked.
"I promise!" he told me, so I gave him back his iPad.
And that's how it is with him. When he's looking for a fight, you have to bob and weave, like this morning.
"Snatch my iPad," he ordered me, "just snatch it away!"
"Are you g-r-u-m-p-y, grumpy, from losing an hour?" I asked him. "Because I am!"
In response he removed his shoes. "I'm going to the bathroom," he told me, "and I'm going to throw my socks in the toilet!"
"Go ahead," I answered, "but then you'll have to wear wet socks all day."
"I'm going to eat my lunch!" he threatened next.
"If that will make you feel better," I nodded, "but you will probably be really hungry later on."
"Then I'll sit on the table!" he said.
"Too bad that's against the rules," I reminded him.
"Call my mom!" he cried. "Just call her!"
"What will I tell her?" I asked.
"Tell her I'm coming home!"
"But nobody's there to let you in," I said, sympathetically.
And so we continued, until he finally agreed to go to the clinic where he laid down to try and get back that hour of sleep.