She teaches kindergarten in an inner-city school where none of the kids really speak English but can craft a homemade shank out of a Crayola crayon in under 10 seconds.
Before she left, she was all, like:
“Diony is going to be trouble today.”
I don’t actually know how to pronounce that, but when I see the name I think of this:
So cute. So evil.
So, Diony is apparently the child from Hell who you can’t control no matter how much you scream “NO MAS! NO MAS!” while he’s stabbing the janitor repeatedly for, you know, sweeping near him and you’re pretty sure you’ll see in 5 or 10 years on the news about an arson fire or murder or grand theft auto or committing murderous arson fires in stolen cars and go:
“Yeah. I can see that.”
And that’s when the texts start rolling into my phone.
Received 10:02 a.m:
“Diony just stuck his entire arm in a pool of water. Coat and all.”
I was later told that this texting was followed by him pulling a starfish out of the tank and holding it up and waving it around which caused an aquarium worker to scream “PUT IT BACK IN THE TANK! IT CAN’T COME OUT OF THE TANK!” at which point he actually DID return it to the tank…
..by throwing it frisbee-style from four feet away.
Received 10:28 a.m.:
“He just tried to jump into the seal tank.”
Maybe he IS Ronnie James Dio because this totally validates any ‘Holy Diver‘ reference.
Received: 10:31 a.m:
“This is him.”
Then there was a delay between texts in which I pretty much assumed my wife had been dismembered by the class in a mad frenzy for Cheez-its at snack time.
Until the last one came in:
Received 1:03 p.m.:
“Just found out one of my kids stole something from the gift shop.”
Just another day with a non-English speaking gangsta class in Boston where kids are throwing starfish and swearing at aquarium workers and jumping into seal tanks and, you know, stealing shit.
The real Dio wouldn’t pull this crap.
Maybe only in New York.