Let me talk to you about second grade teachers.

What was yours like? Was she a kind, doddering old woman that spoke very slowly and always had two or three flyaway hairs? Was he a hardened, strange old guy with a funny mustache that would do voices if you were well-behaved? Was she perhaps, like the woman I volunteer for; a casual, intelligent older woman with perfectly coiffed old-lady hair, a pleated skirt, stockings, mary janes and a matching coat?

Or was she like my second grade teacher?

A know-it-all bitch that would punish children for using the bathroom during their free time and would send bad reports to the principal for something their parents did?

I'll tell you guys a little story. Remember when Star Wars: Episode I came out? Any kid who was a- ...well, the kid of a geeky parent was made to ditch school to see it. I say this because my parents were the ones that decided to take me out of school to see it. Not that I didn't want to. Come on, skip school to see a movie?

Anyway, it was only skip morning class. I had to go back at lunchtime, which suited me just fine. Mrs. Wilson, my second grade teacher, wasn't exactly a pleasant woman- a bit on the hard-hearted, do it my way side. Very set in her ways. I don't know why she ever wanted to be a teacher, the woman thinks she's the be-all end-all of everything that is good and right. She's really only good at being a flat-chested bitch with OCD, though.

So when she found out I went to the movies that morning {WHICH WAS NOT MY FAULT, THANK YOU BLABBERMOUTH EMILY FATASS}, she gave me 'zero' on my behavior reports for a week and a half.

Which, in case you're wondering, does not reflect well in school.

And means you miss recess.

And means everybody in class thinks you killed someone.

And means- YOU GET IT.

My parents eventually had to threaten her to make her stop, and she did so only because my dad threatened to 'come down and talk to her'.

Wtf?

Anyway, Mrs. Wilson teaches first grade now {those poor kids}, and yesterday at volunteer, a girl in a second grade class had to pee while we were at afternoon recess. Mrs. Adams {her teacher} said 'sure', so she ran inside, wherein Mrs. Wilson said "No fuck you" in her best James Earl Jones impression and sent her back out. I then had to be poor Andrea's bodyguard to the bathroom.

And I didn't know Mrs. Wilson's class was actually at the bathrooms at the time. My detective senses hadn't really bothered to work that out {she had to pee, she didn't find a dead body}. So we're walking down the hall, and I'm like "Ohi Mrs. Wilson".

Does she say 'hi' back?

Does she even wave?

No. Her ice cold "I will kill you, gut you and use your corpse as a science project" glare was fixed on Andrea for a good forty five seconds.

...Seriously?

I had to use the bathroom too, after that.