My child goes to school with a thousand killer robots
Dear Superintendent Banershreeshi,
My child goes to school with a thousand killer robots. That, in itself, should make one question the bussing priorities of this district.
I realize that having moved to Cherrystone recently, that Lyle might not get his first or second choice among schools. It is apparent to anyone who talks to Lyle for five minutes that he will not be attending any of the magnet schools in the area. Believe me, I love my son and he tries as hard as he can, but due to the stunted DNA of my ex-husband’s family, Lyle’s brain will probably always operate at 60% capacity.
But is Lyle’s only choice really the school for killer robots? Come on! I hadn’t even realized that there was a school for killer robots in the district. It certainly wasn’t on the selection list sent to us by the school district. Why would we even have killer robots in the district?
I shouldn’t need to tell you that things are not going well for Lyle at school. Every morning I watch that short yellow bus pull out from the curb, with Lyle pounding on the back window screaming, and I feel horrible. Then in the afternoon, he gets off that same little bus, shaking like one of those toy breed dogs. Superintendent Banershreeshi, I know how important an education is, but is it worth my son’s health? His pediatrician tells me that his little heart beats so fast that it just makes a buzzing sound and, while I am not a medical professional, that can’t be good.
Lyle has been placed in all the remedial classes, which he attends with a toaster oven and a Crock-Pot. I’m concerned by the fact that Lyle regularly comes home with second-degree burns, which school faculty assures me are the result of “horseplay”. What I want to know Superintendent Banershreeshi is this, when Lyle comes home with a third-degree will that also be considered “horseplay” or “assault”? Actually, I am unsure which one of these it would be.
Another concern of mine is that Lyle is constantly being derided, even my faculty members, for having to ingest solid food and liquids. Speaking of liquids, the school has no bathroom facilities, forcing Lyle to refrain from using the toilet all day, which may account for the shaking I mentioned above.
Social interactions are a constant difficulty for Lyle, who being the only mammal student, is the center of abuse. Lyle has told me that some of the killer robots aim their targeting lasers at his head during gym class. I’ve talked to his principal, D:DRIVE 5000, who has assured me that nearly the entire school has been reprogrammed not to kill him, but is “nearly all” enough when it comes to my child’s safety?
I don’t want to be a troublemaker, but my son’s best friend is a calculator with a broken solar cell whose limited vocabulary includes the words “BOOBS”, “HELL”, and “HELLBOOBS”. Superintendent Banershreeshi, I want more for my child.
I implore you, please allow Lyle, to transfer to another school in the district, if only for his safety and my peace of mind.
Thank you for your time and attention,
Deborah Kleinman
My child goes to school with a thousand killer robots. That, in itself, should make one question the bussing priorities of this district.
I realize that having moved to Cherrystone recently, that Lyle might not get his first or second choice among schools. It is apparent to anyone who talks to Lyle for five minutes that he will not be attending any of the magnet schools in the area. Believe me, I love my son and he tries as hard as he can, but due to the stunted DNA of my ex-husband’s family, Lyle’s brain will probably always operate at 60% capacity.
But is Lyle’s only choice really the school for killer robots? Come on! I hadn’t even realized that there was a school for killer robots in the district. It certainly wasn’t on the selection list sent to us by the school district. Why would we even have killer robots in the district?
I shouldn’t need to tell you that things are not going well for Lyle at school. Every morning I watch that short yellow bus pull out from the curb, with Lyle pounding on the back window screaming, and I feel horrible. Then in the afternoon, he gets off that same little bus, shaking like one of those toy breed dogs. Superintendent Banershreeshi, I know how important an education is, but is it worth my son’s health? His pediatrician tells me that his little heart beats so fast that it just makes a buzzing sound and, while I am not a medical professional, that can’t be good.
Lyle has been placed in all the remedial classes, which he attends with a toaster oven and a Crock-Pot. I’m concerned by the fact that Lyle regularly comes home with second-degree burns, which school faculty assures me are the result of “horseplay”. What I want to know Superintendent Banershreeshi is this, when Lyle comes home with a third-degree will that also be considered “horseplay” or “assault”? Actually, I am unsure which one of these it would be.
Another concern of mine is that Lyle is constantly being derided, even my faculty members, for having to ingest solid food and liquids. Speaking of liquids, the school has no bathroom facilities, forcing Lyle to refrain from using the toilet all day, which may account for the shaking I mentioned above.
Social interactions are a constant difficulty for Lyle, who being the only mammal student, is the center of abuse. Lyle has told me that some of the killer robots aim their targeting lasers at his head during gym class. I’ve talked to his principal, D:DRIVE 5000, who has assured me that nearly the entire school has been reprogrammed not to kill him, but is “nearly all” enough when it comes to my child’s safety?
I don’t want to be a troublemaker, but my son’s best friend is a calculator with a broken solar cell whose limited vocabulary includes the words “BOOBS”, “HELL”, and “HELLBOOBS”. Superintendent Banershreeshi, I want more for my child.
I implore you, please allow Lyle, to transfer to another school in the district, if only for his safety and my peace of mind.
Thank you for your time and attention,
Deborah Kleinman
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