Gawd, I'm redundant (posted this while back)
But this thread asked
so
The Wadsworth Years
Mrs Wadsworth was our teacher for a couple yearsā¦..actually 2 Ā½ years, as she stepped in when Mr Taboli made his infamous exit.
The white coats didnāt come to get him, but after the zip gun affair we never saw Mr Taboli againā¦our first conquest.
Mrs Wadsworth was different.
She was old, and done with it all, but folks gathered around her and conned her out of retirement.
Turns out sheād run a concentration camp of grades six thru eight back in Milton-Freewater for centuries.
Quite the disciplinarian, as she could still wield a bamboo rod with the deftness of a samurai.
And those high top orthopedic oxfords that housed her rheumatoid ankles were nothinā to mess with either.
She stood about five six, and weighed in at oh say 97 lbs, but still had a presence about her.
I got her to smile a couple times, but usually she wore this sour look, like she just got fed some horse shit, of which we tried.
She had what was sometimes referred to as denture face, some real jowls, kinda looked like Deputy Dawgās grammaā¦.and she used it to her advantage, lookinā down on you thru her bifocals.
Eddy P, the terror of turd grade, was putty in her gnarly hands, and even his little brother, satan of second grade, was no match.
So things were as quiet as they could be in those two years.
We all respected her, and I even admired her, and Iād like to think she got a charge outta me, as she would single me out as an example for others not to follow.
When she gave me her special attention, Iād notice her neck would commence to sorta blossom into a rather deep crimson beginning at the start of her collar and creeping up to her chin. This aurora was gradual, and mesmerizing.
Grammar was her specialty, and diagramming sentences on the black board was what we all did, over and overā¦past participles and me became friends, as we both found our little special place in the parse tree of life.
But the second room in that school held my fond attention.
Miss Dickerson taught kindergarten thru second grade.
She had a dimpled smile that would melt me into deep daydreams of her and I.
Iād sit thru history class, fanaticizing about us goinā campinā. Her lookinā on with admiration of me building a camp fire with nothinā but my woodsmanās prowess, and then skinny dippinā and then, well things got sorta grey from there, so Iād be stuck on replay, filling in more details with each re-run of my boyish manliness and her absolute womanliness, then fog, then back to camping, swimming, fogā¦.sometimes weād just lay on the bank after skinny dippinā, all naked, basking in the sun, fixated on each otherās *******sā¦but there was always that darn fogā¦ā¦.