Ms. Clown and I were
far from done after the dickey jokes. Far from done. With the Dickeys we were either
measuring or cutting or sewing every day for two weeks on a project
that would take anyone without a legitimate medical brain disorder 20
minutes, tops. When I finished the project the first day and started
finishing all the other kid's projects on the second by the third I
was bored. Bored. Bored. I was ready for a change of pace but was
more cautious after I had been threatened with sudden death if I
disturbed class again. I started gathering scraps of cloth and began
making a sexy little mankinni. I was quite and not raising hell so
the teacher left me alone, assuming no news was good news. Anyone
with children of their own know that a quite child, like the mighty
Bengal tiger silently closing in on the Punjab caravan the stalking
silence of naughtiness is the most dangerous. She had no children of
her own yet so she was making this massive technical error based on
her strictly academic knowledge of children. Book learning won't save
you in the heart of darkness. I sewed at a Grinch-wrecking-Christmas
pace to finish my joke costume so it would be ready for public
display whenever the opportunity arose. Arise it did. Senorita Payasa
absented herself for some critical business elsewhere and the game
was afoot. I hastily pulled off my shirt and scrunched my shorts as
high up on the virginal white of my legs as I could and popped on my
homespun bra and pantries and mounted the teachers demonstration
table at the front of class and began a sexy booty wag dance. The bit
was absolutely murdering in the 12-13-year-old male and female homEC student
demographic. I was doing so well I was imprudent in the length of my show and things went badly. The door flew open and Donna Pagliaccia
closed the distance on my partly disrobed and provocatively
undulating body and swept me off the table/stage and onto my butt and
the floor. Talk about getting the hook. They say you can't please all
the people all the time and they turned out to be really right in this case because she was one of the people and she was definitely not pleased, not pleased at all. I had thirty
laughing kids and one rude critic had to ruin it for everyone. This
is why we can't have nice things people. She held me with one hand
while I struggled to free myself and get my shirt from off of the
counter while she told someone to go and get the principal. I freed
myself long enough to get the bra off and my shirt on and I had
pulled my shorts back down to the dress code length by the time the
principal had been summoned. I still had the over-panties on and I
didn't see a graceful way to get them off before my ad hoc trial
would commence so things looked pretty damning. Pretty damning
indeed. The bell rang and all of the other kids filtered out as
slowly as they could so they could see as much of the train wreck as
possible without missing their buses and rides home. I was caught in
one of those situations where there is no reasonable explanation for
my behavior and so trying to rationalizes seemed out of the picture.
I was, however, shocked at the blatant mis-truth and outright lies
that I was hearing from the clown princess of home-economics. She was
claiming that I had taken off all of my clothes (you know? Down to my
nakies) put on the bra and panties and danced around the room. While
the truth was only marginally better it turned out that having my
ersatz panties over my shorts still helped me to clarify that while I
did have my shirt off I had my shorts pulled up in a comical and not
sexually explicit manner. The principal looked very tired and very
unamused when he told me I would need to come with him and set up a
private meeting with my mom and dad.
Oh, no. Not dad.
My dad had a very
low opinion of shenanigans and was quick on the punishment trigger.
Luckily, mom was the one who came and with my two baby siblings in tow
and had to endure the shame of another private meeting with school
administrators. She was not amused by my sexy dancing outfit or story
but I was not punished much I think it was some kind of grounding
which I could live with considering they were talking about expulsion
based on the quasi-sexual nature of my performance. This was not the
last time I would be in trouble for being naked at school, not even
the second to last time actually.
