Leaving No Good Deed Unpunished

No good deed goes unpunished.

The students have been hacking and snorting with some new virus. Nine days into the school year, and my box of tissues was nearly empty. The #1 son conveniently 'forgot' his duty of hauling in my supplies as instructed. Oh, he can wolf down those Sonic tots and chug a Sonic soda after school. But when it comes to paying for his bounty with the physical chores that Mrs. Hillbilly Mom abhors, he runs a tab.

After school on Tuesday, I told him that he would need to carry in water and tissues Wednesday morning. He agreed, because if he didn't, I was not going to buy him Sonic snacks. He agreed in the heat of the moment, tater tot vapors tickling his nostrils. Now it will be some cockamamie conspiracy I cooked up if I mention the agreement. Wednesday morning dawned all gray and raindroppy. I forced #1 out of T-Hoe at the back door of Newmentia, and instructed him to come let me in at the end door by my parking place. I had earlier forced The Pony to bag up five bottles of water, and browbeat #1 into carrying them into the building.

No mention was made of the tissues. There were only about 10 left in the box. I do not wish for my snotty students to have to resort to a roll of school toilet paper for honking their schnozzes. That stuff isn't even perforated, by cracky! That is low class. Only the best for my kids. Puffs With Aloe, baby! Between classes, I asked #1 to run out and grab a box of tissues. I could keep him from getting a tardy, you know. I am all powerful. #1 refused. Go figure. A deal is not a deal with that boy. His philosophy is 'I take and you give.'

During my plan time, I dashed out the end doors to T-Hoe, being careful to take my second-best doorstop with me so I could get back in that door. Rain had been sluicing down intermittently all day. Feast or famine. Flood or drought. Skies were clear when I started the 50-foot walk to my car. You know where this is going, right? I took a few steps, and thought that I felt a sprinkle or two. No matter. I was just grabbing those tissues and heading right back in. Then I heard a roaring from the direction of the technology building. Oh, yes. It was a sudden deluge hammering the metal roof. A sudden deluge that nigh to drowned me before I even reached into T-Hoe's rear end. I rushed back to the building, clicking my clicker behind me, not even checking to see if T-Hoe locked himself.

I have been drier upon exiting the shower. My lovely lady-mullet was plastered to my skull like Bob's Big Boy hair. Like the painted, plastic-molded hair of Johnny, Jane, Jay, Josie, Jamie, and Janice West. I had a regular West family action-figure coif.

It was not flattering.