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Friday, August 2, 2013

An Apology to My Deputy Principal

After my post the other day…A Letter to My Deputy Principal I feel (in the interests of future employment opportunities) it would perhaps be a prudent decision to apologise to my D.P.

Not for the outrageous demands I communicated in my letter mind you; but for the unflattering portrait of Yoda I used to represent our esteemed leader.

I have to say, our D.P. is actually a bit of a good sport (you know… the type that may or may not dance on tables at Christmas parties) and I do have one amusing story I can recap without fear of any damage to my financial security.

A few years ago I was having some difficulty in managing the errant behaviour of a particular student, Aloysius. I’d sent him up to the office to have a quiet conversation with our D.P., the stoic Mrs. G.

An admonished Aloysius indolently wandered back after his meeting with the D.P. while I was with the rest of the class playing sport, so I sent him back to the classroom to retrieve his hat.

After a few minutes, highly suspicious of the tardy return of Aloysius, I darted back to the classroom to check on his activity.

As I opened the classroom door Aloysius swiftly turned around; startled and eyes bulging like a large rabbit caught in the headlights. He was gripping my lolly jar; a myriad of Allen’s Snakes littered the floor around him and his chubby cheeks were swollen with multi-coloured lolly-juice streaming and dribbling out his stained mouth.

“Aloysius!” I gasped… incredulous at his audacity, “You’re really in for it now! We’re going back to see Mrs. G! Come on… spit out those lollies!”

Sensing defeat, he dutifully spat the mushed, gloopy lump of psychedelic moosh into his hands and followed me back up to the office.

“Mrs. G!” I feigned outrage for Aloysius’ benefit, “I just discovered Aloysius raiding my lolly jar when he was supposed to be getting his hat from the classroom.”

“Give those lollies to me!” Mrs. G. demanded, espying the grubby little hands clasped together tightly and encasing the illicit contraband.

And... before I could prevent it, the now confused Aloysius, plonked the seeping mass of gelatinous spit and confectionery into Mrs. G’s open hands.

The look on her face was priceless.