The Second Week of School

Dear God,
When you made me, why did I not get more patience? Did You, in your infinite wisdom and omnipotence, not know that I was going to teach middle school? Had you not had experience with the psyche of 13-year-olds? I just don't get it. I'm using small words to communicate with them. After all, "Shut UP!" is a short phrase with two small words in it. Why don't they understand what that means? They don't understand "Please. Be. Quiet." either. And heaven forbid I should use an entire sentence like, "Guys, I'm trying to teach here. Could you please quiet down?" It's like I'm not even there! You at least managed to help the administration see that 31 kids is too damn many in one classroom. Now there are only 26. While not a big improvement, I do thank You for that. Could you give me some guidance on where to go with these kids? Should I give them grammar quizzes every day? Should I give up?

Your humble servant with no more patience,
Mama C

PS- Lord, won't you buy me my own double-wide? Seriously. We're all out in those portables on the football field, waiting for the new school to be finished. There's plenty of room for another one for me, your faithful servant. Then I could have my own classroom, instead of borrowing other people's rooms all day. And I wouldn't have to share an office with the one who never shuts up, even when you ignore her. And I wouldn't have to run anywhere to grab the one thing I need that I always manage to forget - the textbook! Of course, I wouldn't get near as much exercise either. Maybe you have some strange, sick plan that may benefit me. I have to "float" because otherwise I wouldn't exercise. (Look, I'm a poet, and I didn't even think I was!)
PPS- In an unrelated thought, could you also get my husband to stop falling asleep on the couch, waking up in the middle of the night, and waking me up when he comes back to bed? Thanks a bunch!