How about just never throw stones?

4th grade was a tough year for me. Long division, an over-crowded classroom, and the worst yard duty lady of all time. She was old and mean and wore giant glasses attached to a string of glass beads. I feel like this woman was present in everyone’s childhood because every time I describe her I get a resounding “Oh, I know what you mean.”

Being the 4th grader that I was, my friend and I were trying to see how high we could throw a rock into the air. We were so cool. We had thrown the rock a few times and I knew I could really throw it high if I put my whole body into the motion. I got a little carried away and arched my back enough to send the rock flying backward over my head and directly into the leg of the horrible yard duty lady.

She came screaming over to me and shoved her nose so close to mine that my eyes watered from trying to look at her through her coke bottle glasses. She screamed and yelled at me for what felt like 2 recesses and finally determined that multiple sessions of detention were the only cure for a 4th grader’s desire to throw stones.

Im pretty sure I have thrown plenty of rocks since then. Those detentions didn’t take, I guess.

I am The Meanest in The Land #2

Scene: It’s day 3 of driver’s-ed and 16-year-old me is coming back to the classroom from lunch. I don’t know anyone in the class and I don’t really care to talk to anyone since the classes are only 5 days long. A gangly, unwashed boy with a dime-sized scab on his upper lip approaches me.

Scabby: You don’t talk very much, do you?

Me: Nope.