Brat and Critter Meet

I was born a Catholic (but gave it up for Lent years ago) and most likely would have gone to Catholic schools except for one simple fact. Mom was afraid what the nuns might do to me. My older sister (by three years) started out at Blessed Mother, which definitely wasn't any kind of blessing. Sis was an extremely timid shy child and the nuns terrorized her, smacked her with rulers, and yanked her hair. Mom said, "My God, just think what they'll do to Critter" so she sent us to the public schools. And walking into first grade is where I met Brat.

Actually, I don't recall our first meeting but we developed a friendship all the same. And it has been nearly 40 years since that time. This friendship grew how of mutual hatred for our teacher, Mrs. Helen. Now Mrs. Helen was aptly named for surely she was one of Satan's minions. She was worse than any nun could've thought about being. She had a square jaw like Carol Burnette but unlike Carol Burnette she was totally devoid of any sense of humor. To put it plainly: the bitch was mean.

Now Brat's memory is better than mine but several incidences stand out from that year. Once Mrs. Helen told us to take a seat and get quiet which Debbie, Brat, and I promptly ignored. So old Square Jaw grabbed her paddle and came for us. We beat her to our seats and promptly laid our heads on our desk like the rest of the terrified kids did but it was too late. She yanked each one of us up and beat our asses and threw us back down. Debbie bawled and carried on but I didn't hear a word from Brat so I peeked out from under my arm and there she was peeking back at me, with fire flashing in her dark eyes. I like to think this was the beginning of our friendship. . . two pissed off little kindred spirits who bonded with that one look of understanding.

There are more stories of pain from Jutty Jaw but you get the idea. But this story has a happy ending for us because even at that age we were determined to bestow a little payback. And paybacks are hell. Hell for Helen. . . HAR HAR
Once when Horrible Helen left the room, we placed a thumbtack in her chair. We searched her desk and used one of her own thumbtacks, placed it in her seat, threatened the rest of the class with an ass whipping if they told, and sat and waited for her return.

I learned something that day...skinny people who sit on a tack have no protection. I swear, from her scream, you woulda thought it went straight to the bone. And maybe it did. The woman's whole face disappeared...all you could see was mouth as she bounded out of that chair, letting out a blood curdling scream as she grabbed at her ass.

Well, needless to say she went home early and the principal was our sub. Now our principal was a sweet soul who I loved dearly. That day was one of the few times I remember her getting mad. She tried very hard to get someone to tell her who had done this horrible deed but no one had seen a thing.

Forgiveness? Yeah, I guess I can forgive old Sore Ass...but it sure is easier to forgive with the sweet memory of revenge to savor.