Dear Secret Blogiary,
Dad called me back tonight concerned about how my day went and if I “rocked any boats.”
“Did you behave?” Dad asks.
“What? Are you kidding?” I reply. "Am I five?"
“Well, I know you were a bit upset.”
“Yeah. But I am a teacher and I teach.” I say pulling the phone from my ear and sticking my tongue out at it.
“So…What did you teach today?” He asks.
“Jeez, Dad! What am I? Ten?” I say.
"Come on, Teacher. What did you teach?" He cajoles.
“Fine." I say rolling my eyes wishing we were Skyping so he could clearly see my sass. "I taught the kids how to construct a meth lab in their closet so they could earn money to buy some pencils.” I pause. "Cause, you know, they never have supplies."
“Huh. Meth lab? That’s good. Teach them a skill they can use! I hear meth can bring in a lot of money.”
"Um...yeah. I guess. Depending on the neighborhood, I imagine." I say slowly, I am talking to my Dad, right?
"Anything else?" Dad asks. "Did meth labs take up the full 90 minutes?"
“Yeah." I reply. "You know, I’m tired of teaching stupid shit like spelling and reading. Tomorrow, I’m going to teach them how to cut powdered sugar in with their coke to increase supply and profits.”
“That’s a good plan, Honey, just, you know…don’t rock the boat too much, okay?”
“So you think I cut the lesson on IEDs?”
My dad snarks softly into the phone. "You know, they tap phones."
"Seriously, Dad? Now you're worried about illegal phone tapping?"
"Well, could be."