Little Carl is confident, quite self assured, and often thinks he can call the shots when dealing with adults. Carl, called nasty by most who know him, soon will begin 4th grade. He calls his new teacher to get the power structure worked out before the first day of school.
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“Hey Teach. Is that you?”
“Who is this?”
“Carl. You might have heard of me. Can I call you Kate?”
“No you may not. I’m Ms McCord to any of my students.”
Pause.
“Okay, Kate. So here’s the plan.”
“Is your mom there? Put her on the phone.”
“Yeah, she’s here. But right now she’s a little tied up.”
“Put her on the phone, please.”
“I told you she’s tied up. Really tied up, if you get my drift.”
“What is it you want?”
“No chitchat, Kate?”
“Quit calling me Kate.”
“Okay, here’s the plan.”
“What plan?”
“Hold your horsies, Teach. First of all I’ll be one of your best students in 6th grade.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your most valuable asset.” Pause. “Dang, I always like saying that word.”
“What do you want?”
“Okay, I’m going to be a help to you like nothing you’ve ever seen in all your days of teaching.”
“Help? In what way?”
“The class you’ll soon be looking at, there are a couple of future prisoners in there, and you’ll see 3 of the snarkiest and nastiest girls you’ve ever had. The quiet kid Brad seems okay, but he’s a pyro.”
“What do you mean, pyro?”
“He starts fires. You’ve never had a pyro in your class?”
Nothing from Ms McCord.
“So I can help out with discipline and keep the troops in line. All I want from you is to ease up on my homework expectations and give me a break on my tests.”
Pause.
“And I’ll help you out on the days when you fill out grades.”
A muffled grrrr.
“Carl. I’ve heard enough.”
“So we’ve got the makings of a deal?”
“No, we don’t have the makings of a deal. After you untie your mother, have her call me.”
“I don’t have your phone number,” he lied.
“Yes you do. Have her call me.”
“You bet. Like my runaway dad used to say, ‘Second Tuesday of next week’.”
End of conversation.
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Carl, the early years.
