Mizz Erna

So the good news is (the better news is, its a long weekend), I made it through the entire month of September without a scratch. The not so good news (yet strangely pride-enducing) is that I got my first bite today. Literally. We had a fire drill at 2pm (note: we have dismissal at 2:20) today. When we go out, we walk towards the local McDonald's. ALL the kids know this. A., the kid who has been giving me much grief since the beginning of the year for throwing himself on the floor 4-5 times a day and digging his fingers in to my arms out of frustration, decided that he was going to McDonald's. During a fire drill. When nobody is supposed to talk. Obviously, I pull on him to stay put. And predictably, he throws himself on the sidewalk. I let him sit and tell him how dirty the sidewalk is. Doesn't work. I use my back-breaking technique of unpleasantly picking him up under his armpits. Thankfully, he stays up in time for us to walk back to class. He tries to wiggle away. I don't let go. Then, "CRUNCH!", right there on my right arm, through my leather jacket, he bites. Thankfully, he didn't break skin. I now have a bruise. It hurts when I touch it. Yet I feel strangely proud that I have been initiated. I have my first battle wound, and the bruise to show it.

Note to self: Never say at the beginning of the day that its going to be an "easy day" because you'll just jinx yourself.