Re: The Meanest Thing I've Ever Done

Reading Abe's latest blog entry, I was reminded of a very similar yet opposite moment in my life that I could perhaps deem "the meanest thing I've ever done."

Mrs. Wilkinson was my 10th grade math teacher. She was one of the nicest teachers at Viewmont High School. She was old and sweet, like a piece of candy you'd find in between your couch cushions. She reminded me of my best friend's grandma, and I wouldn't have been shocked to show up to class one day to a plate of freshly-baked cookies and milk. She cared so much about her students in fact that when she went on a vacation (probably to a friend's funeral - ouch!), she videotaped herself giving the lesson and had the substitute show the video.

So I don't know why we called her "the old bat." We just did (behind her back of course). Because we were 10th graders, I guess. That's the only appropriate explanation I can think of, however inappropriate it may sound. In my defense... to the best of my recollection, my friend's grandmas never gave me homework or asked me to please stop talking to the person sitting next to me. But I make no excuses... although something that seemed harmless, the nickname was was mean & inappropriate.

One morning my best friend Nate and I got to school early to ask Mrs. Wilkinson a question. We walked into her class to find a few earlybirds, but no Mrs. Wilkinson. Without even thinking, I blurted out "Where's the old bat?"

Just then she jumped up from behind a computer in the back of the room and let out a piercing, Simpsons-style "Whaaaa?" I was shocked, but I think she was even more shocked than me. I was one of her favorite students. I had betrayed her. I had offended her so deeply that she threatened to sue me! (it's true, ask Nate - he was there). I had broken her heart, and there was no calculus equation complex enough to put it back together.

I apologized multiple times and was a consummate student the rest of the year, yet to this day I still feel horrible. Only time can heal some wounds. Now, 12 years later, I hope it's time enough... Perhaps Mrs. Wilkinson has Alzheimer's and can't even remember her husband's name, let alone a stupid comment made by a smart student a dozen years past. I can only hope as much. Yet, I can't help but feel with the emergence of Sudoku, Mrs. Wilkinson's mind is sharp and acute, like the triangles she taught about so passionately.

Damn you sudoku! Damn you to hell!



PS... That's right, an animated gif. That's what you can expect when you come to It Takes Two to Lie! Not just your ordinary blog.

PPS...Abe, I hope you don't feel I'm trying to "one-up" you with this post. Our stories were just too similar not to share. Only this time, I was both the fat cow and the moo.