I did get one day of retribution against my horrid 3rd grade teacher. Her husband ran a butcher shop, and did his own meatcutting of course. Which, back in the late 50s meant starting with until-recently-live stock.
She got the brainy idea that it would a great place to take the class for a field trip. So we rode the bus downtown to his shop and he explained a bunch of stuff that I didn’t pay attention to, and then we went in back where he revealed a dead cow hanging from a hook. Without further ado he took a knife and slit the thing open from stem to stern and what seemed like a sea of guts came falling out into a pile on the floor. I think all of the girls and about half of the boys threw up on the spot, it was like something out of a Steven King book - a chain reaction. Not because I had an iron stomach but because my 3rd grade brain instantly saw the downside for the hated teacher, I stood firm and joined the remaining boys laughing our tails off and teasing the others. It was glorious to see her screaming at her husband who was probably going, hey, whose idea was it to bring a bunch of kids to my butcher shop anyway?
On occasion after that, when we were feeling like pushing her buttons, me or one of my cohorts would mimic the act of gutting the cow and bending over retching horribly...
Because we were 3rd grade boys and that’s what you do!
good story!!
Because we were 3rd grade boys and that’s what you do!
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Thank you for sharing this memory, bob!!!
Of course you did, ‘cause you were 8-years old or so.
And of course, my 7th-graders had their own antics to try “to get the teacher” - me. Love their hearts.
It was a stressful job at times, but I loved doing what I was called to do and did the best I could in the moment for each of “my kids.”
((hugs))
~ lyby