For the most part, I was a good kid in school.
Sure, there was a period in the fourth grade when I felt that homework was optional. In high school, I almost flunked Algebra II. Then there was that "experimentation phase" during my Junior year when the band bus just didn't seem complete without Smirnoff and Black Sabbath.
But other than that, I was pretty much a just your garden variety quiet kid who played the piano a lot.
However, I was sent to the principal's office a total of three times during my elementary school career.
Here's how it all went down:
1. Second Grade. Mrs. Ladewig's class.
I was one of five boys who hadn't completed a homework assignment. During the break, Mrs. Ladewig called out our names and said we had to report to Mr. Wiese's office after class. Trembling with fear, we entered his office and told him our offense. He thought for a long while, tap, tap, tapping his desk, and finally let us go with a warning.
2. Second Grade. Again, Mrs. Ladewig's class. (Boy, was she a bitch!)
Billy Ethridge and I figured out how to make paper airplanes so it only seemed natural to fly them in the cafeteria during lunch. Mrs. Ladewig's eagle eye noticed the offending airplanes which resulted in Billy and me being dragged out of the cafeteria by the wrists. Owww! Then, kerplunk, we were deposited in Mr. Wiese's office. Again, we were let off with a warning. I think he knew Mrs. Ladewig was a bitch.
3. Fifth Grade during phys. ed.
A line drive was hit out to me in right field and, of course, I did what I usually did: I got out of the way! After all, what else are you supposed to do when a ball comes at you so fast that it has a sonic boom trailing after it? You scamper, flittingly away!
Afterward, Leroy Barefield was teasing and taunting me. I had had enough of it. I spun around and yelled, "Leroy, just shut your f**cking mouth!!"
His mouth dropped open and he promptly ran to Mr. Shroyer's office to report the crime. I was scared to death.
The only Bad Word I had ever said up to that point was "damn" or "hell". I knew that the F-word was the Absolute Worst Word in the World. It even exceeded a Thou-shalt-not-take-the-name-of-the-Lord-thy-God-in-vain type of word and I knew it.
I had said it and now Leroy was reporting it to the principal. I was so scared. I was planning to rationalize it with the fact that I'd used it as an innocuous adjective rather than the offending verb form.
He let me off with a warning. I think he was secretly proud of me, the quiet kid who played the piano, for telling Leroy to shut his fucking mouth.
To tell the truth, I was kinda proud of me too.