A sad but true story.
Ms. Johnson’s fiancé left her at the altar.
According to legend, that’s why she was so mean.
I never got it.
As a shy child, nobody realized I needed glasses until 5th grade. Most teachers, including Ms. Johnson, thought I was an idiot.
I once gave a presentation about Queen Victoria using my poster as a shield.
Nobody could see or hear me. It was perfect.
Queen Victoria started the tradition of wearing a white wedding dress. I’m sure Ms. Johnson would have loved that detail if she could have heard me.
Ms. Johnson phrased her note differently, but I understood the subtext.
Part of the reason I hated receiving attention was my secret: Irritable Bowel Syndrome. Receiving attention caused me extreme anxiety. Anxiety gave me diarrhea.
I kept the secret hidden from my peers, but my teachers were well aware. I was infamous at our elementary school for my many absences.
One day in Ms. Johnson’s class, my stomach started hurting during a math test.
“Linda” has maybe two and a half minutes.
I scribbled down some nonsense, turned in the test, and approached Ms. Johnson’s desk.
I dunno, lady—I’m about to have diarrhea in my pants.
I was in serious danger of pooping myself, and I didn’t have a poster to hide behind.
Is this a grammar lesson?
My classmates looked up from their math tests.
I grabbed the hall pass and bolted.
I spent the next ten years in the bathroom.
Two toilets died that day.
I needed to move quickly before anyone found me at the crime scene.
Back in class, I walked toward my desk, hoping for a stealth return.
My desk was gone.
Paraphrasing, but Ms. Johnson said something like that.
While I was in the bathroom, she instructed the kids to hide my desk and rearrange the furniture.
My classmates hadn’t been distracted by the math test at all. For god-knows-how-long, the entire classroom had been waiting and pondering my absence while I single-handedly destroyed the bathroom with a double-ended firehose.
For a 10-year-old girl, the worst thing in the world is having your classmates know that you poop.
The kids followed Ms. Johnson’s chorus like she was the Pied Piper.
I found my desk in the closet.
Still paraphrasing.
I will never forget the difference between “Can I” and “May I.”
