Paranoia

I didn't forget it was April Fools Day. I woke up cautiously, checking the floor before I stepped out of bed. I smelled each of my shower liquids before lathering them on my body. I read all of my emails carefully before responding.

But even with my prank alert on high, nothing could prepare me for the most dangerous pranksters of all: the kids.

It started innocently enough with one of my girl students. "Oh my god!" She shouts at the end of the standardized test. "I bubbled all the answers in the wrong section!" The teacher in me freaked out, worrying that erasing all the bubbles would be a daunting task; the shadows of lead would still leak through and ruin her machine-corrected answer sheet.

Of course, April Fools.

I laughed it off. It really was pretty funny, and I appreciated that the students weren't maliciously laughing at my "freak out" face...at least I hope it wasn't malicious.

Then things got out of hand. Before fourth period, one kid burst in the classroom out of breath, saying someone had stolen his backpack. I popped out my seat to go comfort the distraught child, only to have him giggle through my sympathy.

After that, the day just went downhill. Every time a student asked for anything, or told me anything, I suspected foul play.

"Can I go to the bathroom?" Umm, no? I'd rather you piss yourself than be made another fool.

"I forgot my homework." SOL. Pull it out or you fail.

"My stomach hurts." Yeah right. You'll have to crap blood before I let you go to the nurse.

Usually this is a fun holiday, but today's paranoia just made me a grumpy teacher. I could feel the frown lines burn onto my usually jovial face.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice...damn.