Calm Down sweet Cheeks

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I arrived in my new classroom panting and red in the face. The round man standing behind me, who happened to be my father, was much the same. My shoe felt like it was full of gravel and cinder, probably because it was full of gravel and cinder.

The gravel and cinder was a result of my ill-fated attempt at escape. My hair, which had been perfectly combed that morning, was now a horrible, matted mess. My pants were covered in what was mostly dirt.

Upon entering the kindergarten, my dad started to apologize for my appearance. This left me free to go and play with the other kids.

“Do you want to play with us?” asked the most pretentious, little, blonde kid I had ever seen.

“That’s what you’re mom said,” I replied and then immediately realizing that no one understood me added, “last night.”

The kid looked back at me with complete bewilderment for a few minutes while he regained his composure. That little, blue suit of his might as well have been a sign hanging around his neck saying “tool,” because I could tell I wasn’t going to like him.


It was a little bit later and the teacher had started calling roll. Our parents had left and we were alone with this woman we had just met. I found out that the little blonde kid was named Gavin. What a stupid name. When the teacher called my name, I responded with “Come at me bro.” The humor was lost on my audience. It seemed as though it would be my burden to bring some culture into this class.

After roll, I got up and made my way over to the building blocks. Or at least I would have, if the teacher hadn’t stopped me.

“What are you doing?” asked the teacher in a soft and innocent voice. I had already forgotten her name. “Go back to your seat this instant.”

“I’ll show you a seat.” I said as I bent over and gave her a full view of my rear end.

Her face became flustered and after a few moments she stomped over to me and pulled me straight up. “If that’s the way you’re going to act then you can go to the principal’s office!”

“Calm down sweet cheeks, I’ll go back to my seat.” I said, having already slipped out of her grip. I was back in my chair before she could respond.



“When’s recess?” I managed to spit out in between handfuls of pretzels. We were only supposed to take a few, but the teacher had already given up on me. Right now she was in her office crying over the comment I made about her father.

Most of the children sat in their seats staring at me, afraid that I might talk to them. There were about fifteen of them, and I didn’t remember anyone else’s name except for Gavin. Sitting there in the teacher’s chair and looking down on them, it dawned on me that school might be enjoyable.

The teacher came out of her office with puffy eyes and sat down in one of the little chairs that were meant for us. She couldn’t even manage to look me in the eye. Of course at this moment I should have been feeling horrible, but I was consumed with my own ego. “We’re going to recess now, also remember to take your coats.”

I hopped out of my chair and began walking to the door. The other kids were walking too, but they made sure to keep a distance from me.


I sat on the merry-go-round at the top of the playground looking down on all of the kids playing and the school building. The playground monitor was settling an argument by the swing set. Things had become boring since none of the kids would go near me.

Finally when someone did come by, it was a couple of first graders who asked to play on the merry-go-round. I told them only smart kids could ride. They insisted that they were smart, so I decided to have a riddle contest.

“I’ll give you three guesses to find out what’s in my pocket.” I propositioned.

The first grader who was closest to me, with an obvious speech impediment, excitedly shouted, “I knows this. Handses!”

“Close, but no cigar.”

“String-or nothing?”

“Nope, and since that counts as two guesses, I guess I’ll show you,” I laughed and pulled out my hand, revealing my middle finger.

“That’s not fair, we guesseded handses!”

“First of all, I’m not going to listen to anyone who can’t use plurals, and secondly you didn’t guess that it was my middle finger.”

“You cheated! Let us play on the merrys-go-round.”

“No,” I laughed in his face and shoved him. The three first graders began to tower over me. I hadn’t noticed how tall they were before this moment. I knew I didn’t have a chance of winning any kind of fight.

“Hey, calm down guys, it was just a joke.” I said while backing up to the merry-go-round. When the back of my leg hit the metallic surface, I was struck by an idea. I shoved the merry-go-round as hard as I could and got on.

The first grader I had been talking to chased after me, but the spinning merry-go-round put him off balance. My punch connected with his jaw and sent him flying to the ground. Just then the other two stopped the merry-go-round and my plan disintegrated.

“Stop right now,” said the principal, saving me from my certain beating. It appeared that Gavin had told the principal on me, when he saw me push the first grader. That damn tattle tale had actually saved me.

The principal grabbed me and hauled me back to the school while the playground monitor made sure the first grader wasn’t hurt.

My parents were called, and I heard shouting from the telephone. Neither of them could come pick me up, because they both had to work. I spent the rest of the day in the principal’s office.





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