Somewhere my high school Home-Economics teacher is still having nightmares about the year that I was in her class.
There was the time I threw all of the plastic plates in the drawer under the stove because I was in a hurry to get to my next class. Too bad it wasn't just a drawer like my mom's stove, it was a broiler drawer and a few classes later the students were broiling dinner meals. You guessed it, broiler heating up full of plastic plates = melted plastic all over the Home-Ec kitchen and a stink that lasted the rest of the semester.
Then there was an "unfortunate sewing accident" that resulted in three sleeves and no neck hole on a shirt that I was supposed to model for the class. Is it any wonder that I flunked that project?
Several field trips, including one to the grocery store broke out in total chaos because of me and my buddies in class. And I know for sure that we made her cry in class a few times.
But wouldn't Mrs. B be proud to know that I just managed to take a kitchen full of dirty dishes and load them ALL into one dishwasher load. It took a lot of adjusting and shifting of plates and pans, but I am sure that there are at least two and a half loads of dishes in there now.
Mrs. B, I AM putting your class to good use. I still remember that 'A clean home is a happy home'. It isn't that I have forgotten your lessons, it is just that I don't really care if my house is a little sad because it is messy. At least the dishwasher is happy. Heck, with that load, it should be overjoyed.
And Mrs. B, sorry about the whole nervous breakdown thing. It REALLY was KB's fault.
12 years ago
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3 comments:
wow, guys weren't allowed to take home-ec in my HS, we had to take metal shop and wood shop, which could have been good and even useful, except they were taught by sadistic guys who were very unhappy, and took their unhappiness out on the students. Not sure if the home-ec teachers did the same thing.
I also don't agree with the "clean home is a happy home", I think if a home is too clean it's a neurotic home... At least that's what I tell my wife.
Now, don't really think that poor little ole' me made her go over the edge??? I mean, yes she was my homeroom teacher, but that had nothing to do with it. My go on this is that you drove her to the edge as close as you could get her and then she "cracked" when they made her teach Life Science. Of course, I might have helped her a little bit getting to the edge, but it wasn't bad a Marshall saying that she was stupid that time in Sunday School class to her husband....Of course he thought I said it.
KB
Because you told Marshall to say it, right?
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