Tuesday, October 9, 2012

The Good News Is: She's Not Keeping My Secret Anymore

A crisis of epic proportions was narrowly averted at school yesterday.

A colleague, hereafter referred to by the nom de fume, "Stinky," strode back-and-forth down the hall like a wayward paddle being wielded by a nervous parent in the original PONG video game. First to my right, then to my left, indecisive.

"There nurse isn't here yet. I just wondered...does she keep deodorant in her office?"

"Probably. Do you need some?"

"Yes! I forgot to put it on this morning after my workout."

"I have some that I keep here for just such an occasion. It's kind of old. I use it once or twice a year. But it's a stick roll-on."

"I don't care if you don't care."

"Nope. I won't need it again for months. It's right here." I stepped into my room and grabbed a small travel-size Secret off the top shelf of my cabinet. I palmed its light-blue plastic body, and smuggled it into the hall. Stinky palmed it and started on her merry way. I'm not sure where she was planning her application, but it was NOT in the hall under the watchful eye of a myriad of surveillance cameras. I'm thinking she snuck off to her lab, and refrained from slathering on the Secret in front of her waiting class of juniors.

I thought my property would be returned forthwith. Yet I had not seen hide nor hair of it by seventh hour. This morning I called to Stinky on her way to the bathroom. The whole world passes by my post in the upper end of the hall. "Hey! How long are you going to keep my Secret?"

"Well, I thought I should keep your Secret yesterday, but I'm not keeping it anymore. I'll catch you on my next trip."

The palmed hand-off was accomplished third hour. The kids are giving us funny looks. I refuse to tell them about my Secret.


  1. What the kids don't know won't hurt 'em.

  2. I just noticed my picture wasn't included among your followers, which is strange because I joined your site long ago. I just rejoined.

  3. Here's a little secret, don't share personal care items with the kids. Next it will be your hairbrush, and those nits are hard to remove.

  4. I always keep a variety of "necessities" in my purse for just such an emergency. Deodorant. Toothpaste. Toothbrush. A pumice stone. A roll of toilet paper. Tweezers. A small, battery-operated blender.

    I could go on, but then I'd have hordes of people coming up to me, wanting to borrow something...

    ...but sorry. I don't have a square to spare.

  5. Strong enough for a man, but made for a woman ....

  6. Oh! I wish I could hear what the students are surmising regarding your Secret. Heard any rumors?

  7. The true test of a friendship...sharing pit stop. You missed a chance to tell her the classic deodorant joke:

    I got this new deodorant stick today. The instructions said remove cap and push up bottom. I can barely walk, but whenever I fart the room smells awesome.

    High school Juniors would love than one too.

  8. Stephen,
    I agree. There is absolutely no reason for students to be privy to my Secret business.

    Contrary to what my surly nature might lead you to believe, I did not remove your cheery countenance. Once upon a time, I had 43 followers. And 499 posts. So I retooled and renamed the old blog "Unbagging the Cats One" so I could start anew with my old name. Alas, followers cannot follow from blog to blog. Welcome back! Even though you never knew you left.

    I am leery of children who lean in too close to look over my shoulder at their grades. I hear those lice are hoppin' fools. Several times, I have smashed hopping bugs on my arm or desk. I tell myself they are merely fleas who rode to school on the clothing of the pet owners. I'm an eternal optimist like that.

    I'll remember you stiffing me on the square. I know your shoes. Crocs, I believe. And your laugh is quite distinctive. So I wouldn't go whipping out a Tweety Bird Pez dispenser from that purse, especially at a piano recital. If you know what I mean.

    Indeed. And love the skin you're in. I had a boy ask for some lotion on Monday. "Please. My hands are rough and cracked." I suppose he was interviewing for a hand model job right after class.

    None relating to the Secret. But two of them DID ask me if I'd been drinking. They claimed my classroom smelled like alcohol. I'm blaming either the GermX, or some funky gum that kids chew these days.

    I'm sure my juniors WOULD love that joke. But I'd better not tell it. They might accuse me of drinking. Again.