©LK Hunsaker. Smashwords Edition
2011. All Rights Reserved.
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What a day I’ve had!
First, Mrs. Mulrooney, my absolutely, positively, all-time favorite teacher in the world gets hauled out of our classroom by two men wearing white who assure us she will be better soon.
Better than what? I tried to ask. But they didn’t listen. She is the best already, I said, but the principal told me to hush and take my seat. Take it where? I asked. At this, Mrs. Mulrooney began to sob. I knew she didn’t want to leave me, her favorite student.
Dear Mrs. Mulrooney loved me so much, I was asked nearly every day to please take the erasers out to the sidewalk and pound the chalk out of them. She knew this was my favorite activity because it gave me time to dig in the grass and find creatures of all kinds to bring back for her aquarium. Her goldfish loved me, too. I could tell because of the way they came right up to the top to greet the friends I brought them, and then floated on their backs, relaxing, the rest of the day. I’m not sure why Mrs. Mulrooney kept taking them home and bringing in different ones. She must have a really big aquarium in her home and wants to make sure they all have a chance to see her favorite student.
That’s me. I’m her favorite.
I followed Mrs. Mulrooney and the men in white down the hall and out to the big white truck. They gave her a nice white blanket that covered her arms and let her sit all alone in the big back seat. Wow, what an honor, I thought. They know how special she is, too! I asked if I could have a ride. Mrs. Mulrooney should have company on her trip. They said I should go back to class. I said there is no class without Mrs. Mulrooney. They said another teacher would take her place until she returned. I said no one would take Mrs. Mulrooney’s place. They called the principal again. The principal likes me, too. He comes running to see me all the time and lets me sit in his office on the big squishy couch. I don’t know how the holes got in there. I was just feeling it with my fingers. I can’t help that I was holding my pencil at the time. We were in the middle of writing an essay when he came to see me.