Mission Impawsible: A bear-napping nightmare

 I began this school year DETERMINED to act in the dignified, professional manner befitting a woman of strong moral character. That lasted about a week before my friend Geri stormed into my classroom, waving a piece of paper like a matador tempting the bull. She slammed it down in front of me. "This has been left on the copier for days," she complained, "It's time you did something about it. Snark it up." She then stomped out the door. 

I looked at the paper that was causing such great offense. It was a sweet little worksheet, emblazoned with profound questions to spark deep thinking in our young learners. I just made some mild modifications. "Can you ride a dog?" the paper wondered. "Only if you can afford a good lawyer," I added. "Can a circle have a corner?" the paper inquired. I chose a different angle, writing, "I don't see the point." I had no comment for the question that asked, "Can you blow up a float that has no hole?" congratulating myself on my self-restraint and maturity.

That out of my system, I resolved to return to the straight and narrow path. That lasted approximately a day. Dear friends had posted a charming message outside their room but, unfortunately, it was driving me insane. "Welcome you rock," read their sign. I knew what they meant. Everyone KNEW what they meant. The meaning was clear but the lack of punctuation lured me in. But, NO! I was stronger than that. Mind your own business, Amy, I told myself, avoiding that corridor. But think of it like a grammar hangnail. I just COULD NOT leave it alone.

Obviously, there were many ways to address this. I opted to leave our friend Duane Johnson out of this despite his now-easily-recognizable cartoon status. I agonized for several days before deciding that simplicity was best...the addition of an "r" still promoted a positive message. Plus I loved the visual imagery of petitioning a pebble to join their fellow pupils in the learning process.

Unfortunately, my friends opted to take the high road and outrightly ignored my antics or...gasp...even worse, never even noticed my hijinks. Obviously, my shenanigans are a desperate cry for attention. How dare they not feed my childish need for acknowledgment!

It was time to move onto other prey.

This opponent had it coming as she had decided...dangerously...to poke the bear right from the get-go. I have a five foot tall cardboard bear named "Buster" who makes a yearly hallway appearance during the school's Food Drive to encourage donations and terrorize children. Jealous, my friend Sarah decided to try and one-up me with a FREE-STANDING three foot tall, stuffed bear that welcomed adults and children alike on "Meet the Teacher" day. Sure, I wanted to kick it in its furry little face but I held back as befitting a refined woman of wisdom and reserve. But after awhile, I just couldn't bear it anymore.

Yeah. I stole it. And not a jury in the world would convict me. She had it coming. I can't sing. Can't dance. Can't draw. No musical talent. No athletic ability. No special talents to speak of...at all. All I had was a five foot tall cardboard bear that I had had to go dumpster diving for. Look! I'm so upset that I'm ending sentences with prepositions. This is preposterous!

I waited, stalker-style, until Sarah had left for the day. Then I hustled about the school, posting ransom notes...I mean, clues...in strategic spots. My former friend Tyler...recently elevated to knight errant... suddenly came around the bend. As a struggling tenant-farmer, limited by the boundaries of class and decorum, I, of course, did not wish to be seen as a rabble-rouser. Clutching my highly-incriminating extortion envelopes to my chest, I began to walk casually in the opposite direction. "Mrs. Mosiman," he called, halting my escape. I narrowly prevented myself from dropping a curtsy. "Yes, my liege?" "What are you doing?" he asked, frowning, "You're up to something." My eyes widened, shocked. Where on EARTH would he have EVER come to that conclusion? How DARE he make such a bold, and obviously unwarrranted, assumption. What have I EVER done that he would cast such aspersions on my good character and reputation? You would think a former tenant farmer would have a bit more grace. 

Fortunately, His Eminence had more important things to deal with than little ol' me so, with one last lordly leer, he set off to ruin someone else's day. After I posted my remaining ransom notes, I then wrestled that little beast of a bear into a secluded spot. And then, wringing my hands with wicked glee, I waited.

The school day had barely begun when the 2nd grade hallway was filled with a  howling of epic proportions. They had been the victim of a bear-napping. What I didn't count on was the vindictiveness of your average six-year-old. Rather than solve the mystery, they were, instead, intent on stringing up the suspect. With revenge on their minds, the tiny hordes of humans were on the rampage and I had inadvertently led them straight to innocent by-standers. One clue read, "Name the most famous grizzly playwright of the Edwardian Era." The answer, Shakes-bear, was to lead them to the biography section of our library. Poor Ms. Pat wasn't prepared for the vigorous interrogation of the 2nd grade investigation unit.  Our poor librarian may be permanently blinded in one eye from the bright lights. 

The final clue, "Why did it take Mother Nature two tries to make Yogi Bear?" led the revenge-seeking 2nd graders to Miss Joanne in the office. "Why are you here?" our school secretary asked, shaking. "The answer to our clue says Because the first try was a Boo-Boo," a junior detective told her. "Furthermore, the note directed us to go to the person, other than the nurse, who gives out band-aids. And that...is...YOU!"  No fewer than fifteen fingers pointed at Miss Joanne. "Amy," she told me later, "I thought they were going to water-board me." 

So now I'm in hiding. 

I was scared straight, so to speak. Back to the straight and narrow.

Now that I've had ample time to paws and reflect, I realize that there will be no more shenanigans for me.  I simply cannot handle the pandamonium.