I did something in class yesterday that I have never done in 26 years of teaching.
I farted in class.
It was during 4th period and the room was dead quiet--the students working more quietly than any classroom full of teenagers had ever worked. I was at front and center, my back turned to the class as I checked my wall calendar. If there had been a spotlight on me it couldn't have been more obvious who did it.
I could feel it looming inside of me and thought I had it under control, but somehow relaxed and it happened.
It wasn't very long or loud--more like the sound of a bubble bursting. But I know that at least a couple of girls in the front row heard it. When I turned around, trying not to look like I had just farted, they were both hiding their faces behind their books, trying to suppress their laughter.
Every move I made must have looked like I was trying to appear to have not farted. I tried not to look at the two girls for fear my eyes would betray me. I then looked at the girls for fear of not looking at them would make it look like I had done what I had done. I walked around the room, acting nonchalantly, but the cloud of guilt followed me.
Since no one else laughed or looked up, I'm pretty sure that only those two girls heard it. I'm sure that someone will write about this incident in their yearbook.
Another career milestone.
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