Your Mutha

Let me see if I can get in one more Tale of Hallway Hijinks in before this year is up. I was lifted from my now half-packed room by a set of high-pitched squeals. By the time I am away from jack-a-ninny siren, some freshman was in her final moments of one last outburst. At the same time, a Spanish teacher comes hauling nalga around the corner in a panic. If she were a rookie cop from a cheesy TV movie, then she probably would have shot us.

The freshman looks at me, cranes her head back towards the Spanish teacher and then back to me again. She finally shares, “It wasn’t me. It was my sister.”

“Yeah, well my brother is about to give you a smack,” fired back the Spanish teacher.

I hoped she was just being inappropriately clever and not referring to me as one of her brother’s-in-teaching or something.