Since we’re reading The Giver, we’ve been talking about euphemisms. We’ve also been talking about the low scores on our Friday tests. Since the tests are largely made up of reruns of the warm-ups and pretests and pink sheets (grammar/mechanics) we’ve been working on (and copying into notebooks) all week, it seems like… “Well, I’m pretty much giving you almost all the answers to the test. Umm. How much easier could I make it?” A litany of what you’d expect. I should know by now. It’s like the robot Hymie, on Get Smart, or the one that parachuted onto Gilligan’s Island. They like to take everything literally. Knock yourself out. “”No, I can’t take the test for you…or just give you all A’s…or…You all know what I mean. How many of you actually study – even a little – for the Friday tests?” Two or three sheepish hands go up. All but one are probably lying. “Hello? My sympathy level for you is zero.” So. Finally I am fed up. Some of my best experiments emerge (academic word this week) when I am fed up. This is last Friday as we are looking at the scores from the test. (The

