In honor of the beginning of school, I thought I would tell al tale of mystery and wonder from my old teaching days. Enjoy:
I have a little bit of a problem with food. That is a mammoth understatement, but hey let’s pretend it is little. Anyway, my first year teaching I found to be incredibly stressful. Having 20 kids being all needy and talking at you all day is exhausting. They never leave you alone, and in addition you are supposed to actually teach them something!
I soon found myself drained of energy and generally grumpy all the time. So I self medicated with chocolate, mostly, but I also had my way with a bunch of other food that was crappy for me as well. During school hours though, Hershey’s Kisses were my drug of choice.
This was all well and good in the sense that it got me through the day. The kids would irritate me, I would go over and toss down a few chocolatey bites, and the day went on. It didn’t take long for it to catch up with me. I soon found that much of my clothing was rather uncomfortably tight, and my ass seemed to not want to fit into any of my pants.
The problem was compounded because I was a teacher, and I wasn’t exactly raking it in money wise. Between student loans, supporting my chocolate habit, and insisting on having cable television, there wasn’t much money to spare. So I continued to hold my breath and mash myself into those pants figuring that someday I would replace them. That day was just not today.
And then it happened. One of those little kids had a problem and I lumbered over to help. Seven year olds are vertically challenged, so I had to squat down to help the kid out. And ploof! I blew out the rear end of my pants completely. There was no covering this up, my ass had made a dash for freedom from the constraints of that all too tight fabric prison.
Shame overwhelmed me. Then I quickly moved on the blame. If those damn chocolates hadn’t jumped into my mouth I would not have the air conditioned butt from which I was currently suffering. I slowly inched my way tail first into the hall to get the teacher next door. We quickly ass-essed the situation and decided she would watch both classes while I went to try to sew up my pants.
That is how I found myself sitting alone in the locked principal’s office with no pants on. It is truly humiliating to sit in your Fruit of the Looms while frantically stitching up your pants with your emergency sewing kit, stolen from some random Vegas hotel when you turned 21. I stitched like a mad woman until I had created something of a meandering, lumpy seam running up the back of my pants. Now they were even tighter, but I determinedly shoved my plump butt into them.
I sucked it up, literally and figuratively the rest of the day. And yes, as soon as school let out I found my way to the nearest discount store to buy some bigger pants.