Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!

I have some absolutely incredible and amazing students in my FALS classroom. They are all my favorites. But there is one in particular who reigns supreme in my heart. I shall call him Tommy. This is not his real name.

Tommy is now seventeen years old. He is three and a half feet of pure joy. He will be forever five years old with limitless dreams and hope. How wonderful is that?

Tommy has, among other "handicapping conditions", Spina Bifida and mental retardation. I question the latter diagnosis. My man Tommy is a genius. He has figured out the secret of life.

Be cute and all shall be handed to you on a silver platter.

The first day I met Tommy, five years or so ago, I introduced myself. He looked at me very seriously and said, "Your name too hard for me. I call you Mom. Okay, Mom?"

Well, of course it was okay.

Tommy is a video game expert. "Mom! Mom! I bring my X-Box to school, Mom?"

I tell him no, Tommy, you can't bring your X-Box to school.

"Bad guys steal it, Mom?"

Could be.

"I karate Ninja chop them, Mom"

That'll teach 'em!

Tommy does not like Math. "I not need Math, Mom. I got credit card."

Sound logic there!

Tommy does not like reading. "It give me headache, Mom."

As if video games won't?

Tommy does not like writing. "My hand is hot, Mom."

Oh, we can't have that.

Tommy does not like walking. "My feet is hot, Mom."

Truly tragic.

Tommy does not like being outside. "My head too hot, Mom."

We would not want to melt your brain.

Tommy does like girls.

And women.

"Look, Mom! A hot womans!"

And the hot womans absolutely adore Tommy.

He has a never ending stream of hot womans lining up to be his girlfriends.

He probably holds the world record for prom dates and homecoming dates.

Prom King? Tommy!

Homecoming King? Tommy!

And he just eats it up with a spoon, a radiant smile beaming from his sweet little face.

He collects the phone numbers of hot womans daily. "Write it down, Mom! Her HOT!"

Of course he never calls the hot womans. Use of the telephone is not one of his strong subjects. "It too hard for me, Mom".

As our days go by, Tommy brightens my days and the days of everyone he meets. He is the Big Man on Campus. The Little Man with a Plan. Even the toughest kids in our high school know Tommy. They will stop and shake his hand, high five him and tell him how cool he is.

"That's my Mom!" he tells them, pointing up at me. I think most of them really think I am his mom. That would account for all the gray hair, though.

And Tommy enforces the school rules. He is the Chief Hall Monitor, as specially designated by our Principal.

"Take that hat off, man!"

"No cell phones in school, hot womans!"

"You no cuss! I tell my Mom!"

And they all listen to Tommy and sheepishly put away the hats and cell phones and say they are sorry for cussing.

"You no do it again or Mom will Ninja Karate Chop you butt, right Mom?"

Um, maybe not, Tommy.

But the best part of working with Tommy is that no matter what we do, he says, "Thanks for helping me, Mom".

And heaven forbid I should do something wrong or make a mistake! "You fired, Mom!"

In my dreams, Tommy.

And always, before he gets on the bus to go home, Tommy says, "I love you Mom. You HOT!"

If only all he men in my life were like Tommy!