Disclaimer: Some content is inappropriate for readers under 18 years of age or those offended by swear words, references to sexuality, atheism, and libertarianism.

Saturday, May 03, 2008

TeacherLady and the Curse of the Monkey King


There are some traditions that must never be toyed with. For instance, I would rather slam my hand in a car door rather than dare not eat a Cadbury Cream egg at Easter time, no matter how much I want to puke after I've overindulged on them... I would never watch the Amazing Race without a toasted bagel smothered in Nutella, and I would never eat Fanfare chocolates (when they were available... SOB!) without sucking out the lovely, melty hazelnut chocolate in the middle... Sigh... Okay, now I sound like a fat-ass seeing as all my traditions revolve around hedonistic eating habits... But anyway, you get my point.

There is one such tradition that I dared to violate this week, and I have paid the price. The tradition is this: My good friend CandyComrade has a classroom that adjoins with the ScienceTeacher I work with. The doors between them are the kind that can be opened in two parts, the top or the bottom halves or both. Every Friday, in honor of her ability to project her voice well, they swing open the top portion of the door and parade a small toy monkey back and forth, squeezing it to make the sound that they claim sounds exactly like CandyComrade. They have delighted in doing this every Friday for the past 8 months. Until now. You see, their new idea was to have guest monkey squeezers come on down and share in the moment. This week, they asked me. I was hesitant, knowing how irritated Candy and her students get at the furry little primate's various dance routines accompanied by the howling, but I accepted thinking I'd figure something out. Whatever I did, I was going to make someone mad.

I e-mailed her my plan in the morning. I told her I was to be the guest monkey squeezer and that she should position herself near the door and quickly grab the monkey from me and take him hostage.

Oh, it's at this point that I must let you know that the monkey has a name. It's Tainty. "Taint" has become quite a popular word in my circles of friends, and quite rightly so. It's a great little noun.

I knew the "boys" would be angry, but I wasn't quite prepared for their zealous need to reclaim Tainty. One of them shoved me aside and chased Candy around her class. He saw my fork, seized it, and continued to chase after Candy. Another one bribed Candy's class with the offer of five dollars to anyone who could recapture Tainty. Candy countered that offer with a threat of writing up anyone who did return Tainty. Tainty was recaptured, then kidnapped back again by the very same student (playing both sides of the game, smart move) and he ended up being crucified on one of Candy's walls as a signal that the "boys" were messing with the wrong chicks. Uh. It was Tainty who was crucified, not the kid.

Anyway, I am henceforth to be known as "Benedict Arnold" by all three of the "boys" and it makes me laugh.

I guess I'll never be asked to be a guest monkey squeezer anymore. Bummer.

1 comment:

Hani Obaid said...

Thanks for the funny monkey story. Yay, I managed to resist all that talk of chocolate since I'm on the first day of my diet :)