I have a boy in my class whose mother is deaf. Lately, he's been uncharacteristically mischevious (to put it nicely), so we've been trying to set up a conference with his mother. Of course, we need to have an interpreter to help us communicate with her. I had a similar situation last year, so I dug out a business card for a district interpreter that helped us back then.
Last Friday, I sent home a note with this boy, A, saying that I had spoken with the interpreter, and she was free to conference this week, either on Tuesday at 3:00 or on Wednesday or Thursday at 1:25. I asked her to choose one of those three options that was best for her.
This morning, I asked A if his mother had written back to me, and he pulled out the note. She had written, "I will come on Thursday at 3:00."
Uhhhh, I hope you don't. This reminds me of the old Sesame Street skit where Grover would say, "I would like a hamburger and a Coke!" And the waiter would reply, "I'm sorry, sir, we don't have any hamburgers." To which Grover would respond, "OK then, I'll have a hamburger and a Pepsi!"
In related news, my partner, Ms. Jenn Ed, has been out with a fever for the past couple of days, and I have completely lost my voice. If one of us were to turn green, I think we could combine for a clinical case worthy of House.