A Pitiful Tale of Woe

The following story is not true.

I once knew this chubby, pink-cheeked befreckled young girl who wore blue plastic glasses all the time that were about two sizes too big for her head.

She was the type of girl who loved to organize things. She used to play school by herself and make up lesson plans for her body of stuffed animal students. She’d grade her fluffy pupils on their math and vocabulary skills. (Her Pound Puppy, Kathleen, always received the highest marks.)

One day, the principal of her school came into her class in the middle of a history lesson to tell her that the Board of Education required her to teach English. The little girl already knew this, and in fact had worked a little bit of her prepared English lecture into the lesson she was currently teaching. She tried to explain this calmly to her principal, since she’d actually taken great care to include the English lesson into her history class. She’d thought that her principal would be impressed with her ability to multitask.

Instead, the girl’s principal said, “When the Board of Education asks for something, it is always a matter of extreme importantce,” and walked away.

The girl was stunned and embarrassed and tried not to cry in front of her class. She scooped up Kathleen, her favorite student, into her arms, and whispered, “That’s it. I quit.”

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