File 13...

When I was a kid, I loved to create things. Give me a box, a pile of paper, and some glue and I would be happy as a clam.

One afternoon, in second grade, the artist within me beckoned to make some "creations" for my 3 teachers (It was the 70's and I was in a "pod" classroom). I happily gathered all my construction paper, glue, and scissors and began the feverish task of completing the artwork. When I had finished all the crayoned stick figures and glitter stars my little hands could muster, I looked over my work. Something was missing. It needed..... more.

And then it hit me.

I put on my jacket and ran outside. It was a beautiful fall afternoon and the leaves had begun to float to the ground. I grabbed as many as I could and took them inside. Glue, leaves, and construction paper filled the room as I added the final touches to my already sticky art forms.
I stood back and admired my work. Yes....they were good. Oh...they were good.

The next day I put them in a paperbag and headed off to school. My feet didn't touch the ground as I skipped into the building and down to my classroom. The students were just going in. This would be the perfect time to present my humble offerings to those who had educated me with addition, reading, and washing my hands when I used the bathroom.

I approached the first teacher and handed her one of the pieces of art. "Why thank you! This is wonderful! Did you make this? Oh...I will hang it up...right here!" Perfect. Just what I wanted her to say. I went to the next teacher. "This is beautiful...and look at all the leaves! Wow...just like a real artist!" Oh yeah. Magical. This was exactly what I had dreamed. I then walked over to the last teacher. She was writing something on the chalkboard, so I put it on her desk and stood there....smiling. When she returned to the desk, she looked at the pile of leaves, construction paper, and gooey, glitter stars and then at me. And then the words that hit me like a Fisher-Price hammer came out of her mouth.... "You know better than to put garbage on my desk. Put it in the trashcan where it belongs!".

I was crushed, but not wanting to throw all my work into the rusty trashcan, I stammered, "It's...it's....for you. I m-m-made it last night."

Her look was priceless. Kodak should have been there.

And while I truly enjoyed the other teachers' reactions.......I moreso enjoyed the guilt that the last teacher tried to overcompensate with during the rest of the year.

Like a little gluey dividend.