Bad Breath

I was riding home today and telling my ever patient husband another story from school. He just said "this is funny, this is the stuff that people like to read in blogs", so here goes.

I call this one bad breath
I had a young man, for the sake of confidentiality we will call him Nyrik, he got caught dealing Marijuana
  in the boys bathroom and was sent to the local reform school. His mother (who wants to make sure that this does not set back his future as he has every intention of becoming a successful lawyer someday)comes to my classroom to gather up exam review packets. Me, the perpetual optimist who never gives up on her students, gathers the review packets and hands them to the well intentioned mother. I thought the meeting was over. It was not. She then got very close to me, close enough to make out the hairs on her chin and face, this was not nearly as disturbing as the overpowering stench that came out of her mouth.  I could not breathe. She asked me to explain the contents of each page of the review packet so she could help her son succeed. I tried to do this, but found it hard to breathe in and explain an entire course worths ( at least 20 pages) of material.  To fully gather the extent of her breath please imagine moldy cheerios with sour milk combined with week old barbecue chicken and a side of Cajun rice. I stepped back and kindly offered her websites that would help her as she tutored her son along his path of legal success.  She again got very close to me breathing into my face and stated that she very much wanted me to walk her through it not a website. Why do people have to make my job so exhausting? Teaching is hard enough without having to deal with the smell of death during my very short lunch break.  All this for a student whose mother is so blinded by her sons "potential" that she could not find the toothbrush let alone the Colgate needed to freshen up her current situation.