The problem of prophylactics

Surprisingly, there are not a slew of sophisticated synonyms available for the word "prophylactic."  That being said, my mind went completely blank when I spotted the limp little guy, laying deflated and dispirited in the empty school corridor.  I circled our rejected friend several times, unsure of the correct protocol for this particular situation.  I solved my dilemma by applying my new adopted life principle:  What would the teacher-of-the-year do?  This little motto is now the guiding force of my life, helping me to decide what to eat for breakfast, how to choose between two brands of toilet tissue, and even to determine whether to watch TV or exercise.  Amy Mosiman, ordinary-every-day educator might have employed her tried-and-true "planned ignoring" strategy and simply walked by, refusing to live up to her responsibilities to future generations.  Amy Mosiman, teacher-of-the-year, wouldn't even conceive of running off.  Stalwart and unshakable, I mapped out a method.  An unplanned approach with a prophylactic could result in a mistake that could ruin my reputation or traumatize any future children who happened along.  Fortunately, I had, in my possession, a thoughtful teacher-of-the-year congratulatory card written by the high school principal.  Using the durably-constructed cardstock to wiggle underneath the prone object, I  successfully removed the prophylactic with one hand before rushing off without even so much as a backwards glance.  Apparently my teacher-of-the-year sensibilities are still evolving because I'm embarrassed about my subsequent lack of discretion.  Instead of just washing my hands of the affair and moving on...I just moved on...moving from classroom to classroom, laughing about my latest conquest.  Afterwards, I just felt dirty and, like the prophylactic...empty.