A sad but true story.
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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 fifth 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 ten-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.”
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