Why am I always getting blamed for stuff?
I will say this however, when I was in the early grades, K-5, dad was the school superintendent and his office was less than a stones throw from any room in the building. During those early years I did spend more than a few minutes in his supply closet, the unwilling recipient of "applied psychology".....so to speak.
As for Little Johnny jokes, personal experience lets me top them all. For example, in 3rd grade I had a snooty little blonde named Anita sitting in front of me, she had a personality like fingernails on the blackboard. Keep in mind the old fashion desks with the inkwell hole at the front and a desk lid that lifted and exposed the entire contents of your stash; things such as rubber bands, miniature slingshot, large tacks, assorted candy, my buddy's homework....the usual. One day Anita was in rare form, constantly turning around to berate me for something I hadn't done....yet. Finally, having had enough of her and her stupid hair ribbons, I taped a large thumbtack to the end of my ruler and when she came back to her desk one time I merely stuck it through the crack between the seat and seat back....whereupon she was promptly impaled in the butt by the tack. This was followed by screams of anguish and grabbing her bottom, much to the amusement of the entire room except for Miss Kenyon. She came storming over to my desk without hesitation and wanted to see the weapon of choice so I showed her the ruler, having already removed the tack. She grabbed the ruler out of my hand and threw it in the trash, then told me to put my hands flat on the desk because she was going to slap them hard enough to teach me a lesson about keeping my hands to myself. She brought her hands down with a crasheous (sp?) blow, whereupon I opened my hands to the side revealing the suspect tack right where her hand landed with considerable force.....followed with the same reaction as Anita had just a few minutes earlier.
Oh well....back to the closet!
