if these microwaves could talk

Donate a microwave to your faculty if you have an extra. School-based altruism just feels so good.

But what doesn't feel so good is when the faculty defiles your microwave. Disrespect it long enough, and next thing you know, the microwave may send out an email to your faculty:

Dear Faculty,

It is with great sadness that I come to you today to tell you of my intention to leave Springfield, this Friday, October 26.

I will miss all of you. Thank you for affording me the chance to cook your leftovers and mass-produced frozen dishes.

I am honored to say that I served as your microwave.

Sincerely,
The Microwave in the Faculty Lunchroom

And the microwave would feel justified, proud, and optimistic, but the one who:

1. Donated the microwave, and...
   
2. Crafted the email on behalf of the microwave

Would get a barrage of emails expressing shock that he was really leaving his job.

Honestly, do people not read a three sentence email? Do people really not read?

Wait! I know the answer: NO, they do not read!

So...why on this goodly green planet do teachers always put on the 'golly-geewillickers' face when they lament the fact that their students don't read?

They'll say:

• "I mean, honestly, the instructions are right there on the handout."
• "I even bold-faced the task words."
• "Oh, and don't even get me started on the obvious disregard for the rubric."
• "It's like people make up their own guidelines as they go along."
• "And every handout is available on the mail server, our Moodle class, and in a folder in the classroom."
• "Why bother even putting a scaffolded assignment together? Just do some work and tah-dah!, you've earned a diploma."
• "Books? Are you serious? Do any of them even read a single, grammatically correct sentence?"
• "Microwave-generated emails? Unlikely! Did you hear that Ken is leaving Springfield this Friday?"