The school day has ended and my last class has staggered into the hallway, clutching their cell phones and texting the random thoughts that pop periodically into their adolescent minds.  They are, of course ignoring the friends surrounding them in favor of the ones they can't see.  I bite my tongue before I release a sarcastic chorus of "When I'm Not Near The One I Love," an observation on the use of textspeak in their last essays, or just a shriek of middle aged fury.

All day I've been doing that.  The little darlings have provided me with so many openings for random outbursts of sarcasm, that I feel like a caged bear looking through the bars a delicious toddler wandering unnoticed, closer and closer to my cage.  From the student in first period who asked me if we could just use nukes on Iran to the spectacular fauxhawk in fifth period.  Temptation, temptation...  Just a little bit closer my dear...

I really do like my students.  They are, by and large, some of the brightest young people I have ever taught.  Their minds are opening to great thoughts and their hearts are opening to the needs of others.  I don't really want to crush their spirits.

But sometimes... as they get closer to the bars... and the drool drips down my fangs... I wonder... why do they come to me to die?