At the beginning of the school year I fell into one of the coolest part time jobs I’ve ever had. I play the part of P.E. teacher at an elementary school for a few hours each week, which has almost exalted me to rock-star status. Everywhere I go kids shout, “P.E. teacher! P.E. teacher!” They pull on their parents shirts and point me out with pride.
Well, like a real rock-star, I can now add bad influence to my resume.
This week we played human foosball—you know it’s that table soccer game where the players are attached to poles that move back and forth and spin around. Anyway, I spent all week long giving long explanations about keeping the ball down.
“Don’t kick the ball with your toe,” I’d say. “Kick it with the side of your foot, so it doesn’t go airborne and smack somebody in the head.” Over and over I said this. I swear I said it a thousand times.
The last day of the week, one of the foosball lines were short a player in the fourth grade class. I hopped in to help them out. The very first time the ball comes to me, guess what I did? I kicked the ball with the toe of my shoe. Boom—up in the air it goes nailing the little girl standing across from me in the face. Oh, I wanted to die!
When I came back from taking the poor thing to the office for some ice and a phone call home, one of the boys said, “Ooo, Mrs. E. you are a bad influence.” Everyone laughed. What else could I do but raise my guilty hands up. That’s what happens when you get caught breaking your own rule.