Sorry I'm Late; I Got Distracted by Your Fridge

It’s not unusual to read out loud when you’re tutoring. A student may find they take notes better from listening. It’s faster for them. They remember it better. Whatever the reason, reading out loud is not an issue.

On Friday morning, however, at maybe 8:30 am, my tutoree approached me with a packet of information for which she couldn’t wait to take notes. She was rushing, worrying about a quiz only 35 minutes away. She also needed to learn different parts of the body in Spanish.
“No Problem,” I said. “There’s plenty of time for both.”

But then I looked at the packet. As my student set up all of her materials to take the most thorough notes ever, I froze at the sight of what I would be expected to read out loud.
Was it childish?
Yes.
Immature?
I sure am.
But can you blame me?
An entire office, full of colleagues and students, was about to listen to me read out loud a very long packet on “The Male Reproductive System” or “The Meat-Whistle.”

At 8:30 am, the office was completely silent. The faint clicks of a keyboard, the almost silent but all-too-vocal adolescent complaints about the strong smell of egg-sandwich; these were all that could distract from the pre-pubescent giggle-inducing words I expected to read out loud, and surely, neither would be as distracting as the words “scrotum” or “testes” at such an obscene hour.

So I started to read, and my student saw me blush. “Keep writing,” I said “if you know what’s good for you’RETHRA.” We had a good laugh. We learned all about the penis. She diligently took notes on balls: what temperature they’re most comfortable in, why they shrink up when they’re cold, and why they hang low when they’re hot. We discussed how semen and urine come from the same place, and how disgusting that is. In the end, it was kind of fun. “Vas Deferens” is even kind of fun to say!

But the best part of everything was on page 4, when the packet encouraged you to check your balls once a month. “As a reminder” the packet suggested, “write a message on an index card to yourself, and keep it in a place where you’ll see it often. The front of your refrigerator works very well. Laminate the card to keep it from wearing out.”

To translate, someone was suggesting to carry around an index card that said, “check your balls.” Laminated, no less, to keep it from wearing out? WEARING OUT? What would you be doing that your index card would NEED to be laminated to keep yourself from ever making a new one? Up until now, the wear and tear of a thorough ball-check-reminder never crossed my mind. I mean, why would it? I don't have balls to check. But now it's ALL I can think about. I'm nonplussed.

Let's face it, if the well-being of your index-card-ball-checking-reminder is your biggest concern, then you have other big concerns you just don’t know about. If you own a machine that laminates things, however, you have an extreme business-advantage in the ball-check industry. Good Work, and good luck.

If you don't own a laminating machine, you have a very awkward experience at the Office Max awaiting you. Good luck, and don't wear a trench coat.

Also, don’t forget kids, HANG IT ON YOUR FRIDGE. It’s not just a reminder for you: it’s a reminder for everyone who ever wants a chilled snack.

I guess what makes it even better is that the packet then suggested that you make one for your dad, too. Imagine this “look what I learned in school today” moment: “Here dad, I made you this card that will remind you to check your balls once a month. You can leave yours on the fridge, with mine!”

Of course, the packet preached abstinence. I don’t know why it bothered. That’s like saying, “look at this new toy that aches to have fun, but don’t use it.” Instead of saying don’t have fun, it would have been smarter for my student read about how to have safe fun. I think the importance of condoms outweighs the necessity of a laminated-ball-reminder, but maybe, just Maybe, that’s the next section I get to read out loud.