I had a discussion over the weekend with friend who referred to elementary school teachers as people with “Mrs. Degrees,” which somewhat set me off.

The women (and relatively few men) who choose to undertake such responsibilities deserve nothing but your utmost respect and admiration.

A few years ago, I was asked to substitute a third grade class at a school back in my hometown of Opelika.

I thought to myself that the experience would be a largely easy one, letting the kids work on their worksheets and coloring while I circled the room looking for problems.

We’d all have fun, have a few laughs – maybe I’d even lead the children in some sort of joyous song.

It could happen, right?

No – no, it cannot.

I knew I was in trouble when the first kid came in the room pop and lock dancing while making robot noises.

Just so you know, I’ve found, after years of painstaking research, that any child who regularly dances in public on a whim is trouble. The town from “Footloose” had it right: ban dancing.

I maintain that the kids themselves weren’t horrible. They were just kids.

The problem is that I don’t know how to handle kids well.

My patented intimidation method, The Death Stare, doesn’t translate to kids that young.

I could furrow my brow and shake my finger in anger all I wanted; they weren’t going to respond to simple non-verbal threats.

They would just ask me if my eye was OK.

“It’s making a weird twitch,” one of them said.

I imagine yelling at them may have worked well, but I was reluctant to resort to such methods.

Children are very needy.

When they tell you they have to go to the bathroom, let them go immediately or bad things will happen.

When they do go to the bathroom, make sure they are actually going to the bathroom.

One little friend came back with something sticky in her hair and all over her shirt. I wasn’t entirely sure how it got there or where it came from, and I really didn’t want to ask questions on that one.

Children ask an insane amount of questions, often multiple times when not given a satisfactory answer immediately. Giving the answer “I honestly don’t know” to “Where does lightning come from?” will not be taken as a valid answer, no matter how many times you repeat it to them.

Were it not for the intervention of the kind teacher next door, I’m almost certain those third graders could have easily risen up against me and de-evolved into some Lord of the Flies type society.

Again, I’m not saying these kids were bad. I’m simply saying I’m not meant to supervise small children. I’m still at the point in my life where I think of children as an incurable form of STD.

As I left the school that day, I stopped by the office to sign out and many of the teachers gathered there asked what the “newspaper man” thought of teaching at their school.

“You ladies are doing the Lord’s work,” I replied.

They laughed, but I meant it.

I still do.

Thank God for elementary teachers and their vast reserves of patience.

You are doing the Lord’s work, folks, and we thank you for it.

Cliff McCollum is managing editor of the Gulf Coast Newspaper Group. He can be reached at cmccollum@gulfcoastnewspapers.com