Today I’m going to tell you a story about Trooper Bob before he was Trooper Bob. He started out as just Bob. When he was a young buck he was sometimes called Bobby or R.J. but that isn’t what this story is about. This story is about Young Trooper Bob when he was in high school. Well it’s not exactly about Bob but about Bob’s teacher.
I was over at Coal Creek Farm and April was having an undergarment predicament. Well it brought to mind a story that Trooper Bob told of his youth. I will recall it for you now to the best of my abilities.
Bob and his buddy Sonny were two young rambunctious boys. They spent their days tormenting the teachers of the small town’s only high school. They would often hide in the boy’s restroom until class started then light the trashcan full of toilet paper afire. They would then run down the hall screaming “fire in the shit house! Fire in the shit house.” Their other favorite pastime was to again hide in separate restrooms on different floors. They would also enlist the aid of some equally mischievous girls to hide in their respective restrooms. They would all synchronize their watches and at exactly the same time as previously deviously planned they would all flush the big white porcelean stools. This of course would case a major flood complete with toilet water waterfalls down the staircases which would then flow out the front doors and into the front lawn.
One day Bob and Sonny were devising a new prank to pull in Mrs. Bell’s homeroom class. They were sitting towards the back of the class writing notes and making plans when Mrs. Bell entered the room. “Class!” She said as she pushed her glasses back up on her nose “be quiet. Class! Today we are going to learn about quadratic equations.” Bob not being in the least bit interested in quadratic equations wasn’t paying attention but Sonny turned toward the blackboard. Bob punched Sonny’s arm. Sonny turned and grabbed Bob’s Future Farmer’s of America jacket and started swinging it over his head. Mrs. Blinkie Bell turned toward the ruckus and said “Sonny, you stop teasing little Bobby right this minute!” This of course only made the situation worse with everyone having to sing out “poor little Bobby.” Mrs. Blinky Bell became flustered. She reprimanded the class again “Class! Be quiet!”
Blinky Bell then stepped back up to the chalk board. Now back in those days elastic was quite as stretchy and elastic-ie as it is now. It was in fact in the post war years and sometimes it wasn’t stretchy at all. It was about that time that Mrs. Bell’s stretch decided it was done and it popped. Her bloomers or as we would say today granny panties had been stretched to the max and decided it was time to evacuate the premises. Just as Blinky reached up toward the top of the board her drawers went south. They fell in a puddle around her ankles.
Blinky Bell however had been teaching for nearly 40 years. She had taught through weather, wars and now falling drawers. She very delicately and gently stepped out of her old lady panties picked them up stuffed them into her purse and finished her equation.
The whole class sat first awe struck in seeing their teacher’s under-things. Then they sat frozen at the sight of her putting them in her purse. Next they sat trying to wrap their brains around the fact that their sixty something year-old school ma'rm was now all natural. Finally it hit and the giggles started and they rippled through the class until even Sonny and Bob stopped their pestering long enough to take the whole ordeal in.
So to this day if you ask Trooper Bob what a quadratic equation is he will tell you that he’s not sure but it must be pretty powerful. It’s so powerful it makes you lose your drawers.
For your pleasure here is a little ditty about my hometown:
A duel was fought in Texas lately, by Alexander Shott and JohnS. Nott. Nott was shot and Shott was not. In this case it was better to be Shott than Nott. There was a rumor that Nott was not shot, but Shott swears he shot Nott, which proves either that the shot Shott shot at Nott was not shot, or that Nott is shot not withstanding.
Reference: April 1867 issue of `Printers' Circular
4 comments:
It must be hard being a teacher...
No mercy!
I had an English teacher once who after using the facilities pulled up her pantyhose and caught the back of her dress in them. When she turned to write on the blackboard...
Well...you know the ending.
"To the best of my abilities." Like we had any doubt we wouldn't be rolling on the floor laughing...again!
The Texas Woman
Joyce told me I'd just love your "quadratic equation" story -- But I couldn't figure what would make quadratic equations entertaining. Silly me to doubt that woman.
bwahahahaha! Maybe elastic isn't much better today because one of my co-workers was standing in the hall talking and her slip fell on the floor. I about died laughing. She didn't appreciate it much.
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