High School is back in session, and there were plenty of lessons I learned during my time there.
Last time I left you with the painfully hilarious story of how I learned the hard way: Always Wash your hands. That was when I was a sophomore. However, one of my first high school lessons came when I was a freshman. It goes a little something like this.
I was in band all four years of high school. My freshman and sophomore year teacher was Mrs. Feldner. For those that know Mrs. Feldner, then you can attest to how passionate she is about music. And loud. She was really loud. Well, we were 9th graders and we talked. A lot. Thus, we got yelled at. A lot. That’s neither here nor there, though. Babe was a wonderful experience (even though I didn’t think so at the time).
One day I walked in the room too get ready for the hour. It was 7th hour. A short 50 minutes, and then I would be released from the shackles of school. Freedom abounds. I just had to make it through this class. I walked up to the book case where we kept our sheet music. There we other kids scurrying about. Putting together their instruments. Grabbing their folders. There was a general sense of “Hurry up so we don’t get chewed.” For some anyways.
I was at the bookcase when I smelled something odious. “Whew!! Someone is RIPE in here. I hope it’s not me. I better find out.” I put my nose in my shirt to give a little self smell.
The heart sinking misery of it.
That ripeness was me in all of my forgot-to-put-on-the-deo glory. I quickly got my sheet music folder and headed towards the percussion section. “How long have I been smelling like this? I hope no one else caught wind!”
That day I learned: always put on deodorant.
[Gif credit Giphy]