Page 20 - Free the Idea Monkey

Even before the first class began, I could tell Sister Helen didn’t
mess around. Her room was impeccable; the blackboard had been
washed; the chalk was centered; the picture of the Pope and Jesus
were at eye level and perfectly square; her habit was pressed. I
imagined that this was what my dad’s time in the military was like
and that she fashioned herself a general for Jesus.

“A complete list of class rules
is posted behind me, and you are
expected to know and follow each and
every one of them, otherwise you will
be given a detention.”

Right about here, I knew I was in
trouble. As she started going over the
rules, I couldn’t help but comment (at
least to myself) in a way destined to get
myself in trouble.

. . . . . . . . . . . > Would now be a good time to raise my hand?

. . . . . . . . . . . > “What did she say?” I whispered.

. . . . . . . . . . . > “I bet if I slump down far enough I could kick Joey McBride’s butt who
is sitting in front of me. There’s no way kicking is the same as touching.”

. . . . . . . . . . . > Cue obligatory, dramatic sniff of the armpits.

. . . . . . . . . . . > Fine, I will move my whole desk.

. . . . . . . . . . . > Start planning after-school tie-dye party.

. . . . . . . . . . . > Memo to self: start practice on coughing the word “crap.”

. . . . . . . . . . . > Practice coughing “crap” really loud.

. . . . . . . . . . . > This is about the time I picked up doodling.

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