It was a LONG day and my para and I were looking to survive for the last 40 minutes of the day. We had managed standardized testing, threats of harm and self-harm, a trashed room, bolting students, a bus mishap, and itchy skin complaints. The three of us held down the fort in the morning, and when one para left for her other school, we hoped to make it to the end of the day. It was Friday, we were almost there…

I left our room to help a student regulate his emotions and behavior in his classroom. I sat calmly beside him when I got the first text. “He stuck thinking putty in his hair. Lord help me.” I chuckled and continued to help the student beside me. I asked my student if it would help for me to attend his music class with him. He said yes. We both headed to the class. After several minutes in music, I received another text. “I can’t get it out. He squeezed it in. Please help.”

Oh boy…

I told my para that we needed peanut butter (I happened to bring a jar that day) and I would stop for gloves in the nurse’s office. When I stopped in the office and explained my mission, the use of peanut butter was confirmed, and there was a collective chuckle amongst the office staff. Just another day in my world.

After a good 20 minutes, lots of peanut butter (I only had chunky), and a lot of laughter between the student, my para and I, we successfully extracted the wad of Aaron’s Thinking Putty from our student’s hair.

I sent a text to my student’s mother warning of putty/peanut butter hair; thanked my para; gave my student his required hugs for the departure; and called it a day.

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