How I Got Back on the Board of Education

Predator Press

[LOBO]

Being back in the Principle’s office, I believe, makes my edginess warranted.

My fifteen years of adolescent “education” were absolutely riddled with paddlings.

-They don’t do it anymore, but I still make the association.

For a few moments I fall behind the gentleman as we walk to Screechy’s classroom, and I find myself staring at the back of his head and thinking I could take this guy.

“This is the classroom,” he says, swinging the door wide.

What followed was an assault of color and information that reminded me of that mushroom pizza I had in Amsterdam: there wasn’t a square inch of that place that wasn’t both visually stuffed with information and somehow delicious in appearance like candy.

This room could make me insane.

“He’s a good student,” the Principle says. “He just-“

OMG they’ve got 'HOP on Pop‎.'

“-and upon occasion we’ve noticed-“

I LOVE 'HOP on Pop!'

“Sir?” says the Principle.

“I said this room is terrifying,” I repeat.

I think.

“How so?”

“Well,” I begin. “The alphabet pictures over the chalk board. They show pictures of animals. A-Aardvark, B-Brontosaurus, C-Cat, D-Dog…”

“And this is a problem?”

“S is a stethoscope. Until ‘S’, we have all animals.” I shake my head. “You people will be the first to ditch me when my son asks for a pet stethoscope. How could you be so heartless?”

“We’re trying to tell you,” Principle Estevez continues, “that your son is exhibiting narcissistic delusions of grandeur, aggression and slightly paranoid antisocial behaviors.”

“That comes from his mother,” I explain. “Are you guys serving donuts? You guys dragged me in here at 8:30 in the morning and don’t have coffee and donuts? Seriously?”

"Sir, we-"

"I should totally kick your ass."