Special Kids Doing Special Things

My mom worked with educationally handicapped kids for years.
I can honestly say that while I have no ill will for the disabled
(except for that one kid that they called Chicken George that bit me on the thigh for no reason. He can go F**K himself.)
I would definitely not be suited to work with them.

I went and helped out in my moms class a few times and never much cared for it....except this one glorious day.
I think of it as "Popsicle Day"

It was the last day of school and I had gotten out early. I think it was my Junior year.
I stopped by the class to see if there was anything I could do to help out.
(I know many will be shocked to learn that I did take time out from my rigorous door slamming regimen to actually be nice on occasion)
Some genius had found some Popsicles to give the kiddies. Clearly they had been in some kind of hyper deep freeze because these things were rocks. They were so incredibly cold that steam came off of these things like they had been pulled from a vat of liquid nitrogen and then handed to the kids.
Let me make a small aside at this point....have you ever noticed that special kids frequently have prominent tongues? Particularly the Downs Syndrome kids?
Right.
So we have a line of kids. Popsicles are being handed out. Popsicles are sticking to tongues.
Kids are beginning to hop around and make "ungh! Ungh!" sounds.
I point out the kids jumping around trying furiously to extract Popsicles from their tongues.
The handouts stop.
Now we have 2 distinct groups of kids.
Kids that want nothing more than to stop being attacked by their treats, and kids who want treats.
Neither group is happy.
So we take the kids with the stuck tongues and hold them up to the sink so that through the magical healing powers of warm water their torment may end.....thereby creating a third group of kids: those that are pissed off that we took away their treats.

Lets review.
Group one: pissed of and stomping about demanding treats.
Group two: Flopping about with demon frozen leeches attached to their tongues.
Group three: Kids stomping about demanding the return of their precious treats.

I wish I could tell you how the melee was finally quelled. I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt. I do distinctly remember 2 things.
First, I remember my mom insisting vehemently that it was not funny and me insisting just as vehemently that it in fact was funny.
Second, I remember thinking that if somehow it could be like this every day I just might want to be a special-ed teacher after all.