A Prairie Home Companion from American Public Media: First Person

Similies
By John Wood
October 24, 2007

Dear Mom,

My teacher, Mrs. Barnhouse, is making me write this note to you. Today, when I was supposed to be learning about similes, I was messing around and I got in trouble. The principal made me stay after school and Mrs. Barnhouse made me write a note that uses similes and explains how I got in trouble. Here it is.

This afternoon, when I was supposed to be busy as a beaver with a worksheet on similes, I suddenly realized that I was as hungry as a bear. I knew Jimmy Fargo had some Skittles in his jacket pocket and I wanted some, but Jimmy is meaner than a junkyard dog. So I asked Suzie Patters to ask him for me. She told me to get lost. Sometimes she can be as sweet as pie, but I guess this was not one of those times. I asked her again, and she was as stubborn as a mule. It looked like getting Skittles from Jimmy wouldn't be as easy as stealing candy from a baby.

I told Phil Tolkmer, who sits behind Jimmy, to switch seats with me so maybe I could sneak some Skittles out of Jimmy's pocket. Well, Phil was as clumsy as a bull in a china closet. He tripped over his own desk and fell into Heather Teemer's lap. Heather screamed and her bubble gum shot out of her mouth like a rocket and went down the back of Marybeth Pringley's shirt. Marybeth started jumping around like a frog in a frying pan yelling that there was a bug in her shirt. She ricocheted off the wall map like a pinball, making it roll up like a window shade with a sound like a gunshot. Then the whole heavy roll of wall maps dropped like a rock off the wall and shook the room like an earthquake when it landed with a crash.

With all that commotion as cover, I made my move. I was as sly as a fox and as spry as a cricket. I slipped into Phil's seat as quiet as a cat burglar and reached for the Skittles. Jimmy caught me and roared like a grizzly. I jumped like a cat on a hot tin roof and quickly pulled my hand back. Jimmy turned on me like a rabid dog as Skittles spilled all over the floor.

Just then Mrs. Barnhouse came over to see why Heather was screaming like a stuck pig and why Marybeth was bouncing around like a jumping bean. But when she reached Heather, Mrs. Barnhouse slipped on the Skittles. She looked like a cow on ice and she went down like a ton of—well, you know. The whole class laughed and we all went after the Skittles. We were happy as pigs in mud.

When Mrs. Barnhouse got to her feet, I ran back to my desk and sat down again. I pretended to be as busy as a bee with my worksheet. I was cool as a cucumber. I didn't think she had really seen what had happened. She's usually as blind as a bat. But she had seen it all and was as mad as a wet hen. I made up a story, but she knew that I was lying like a dog. She yelled at me and I blubbered like a seal. She sent me to the principal's office and he yelled at me too. I cried like a newborn baby, but he gave me detention anyway.

I'm really sorry I got into trouble, but sometimes I feel as playful as a prairie dog and the school day moves along as slowly as a turtle in pudding. I'm usually as quiet as a church mouse but I can feel as hyper as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Sometimes I just want to run around like a dog in a hubcap factory. But I will try harder. I promise that I will steer clear of the dangerous crevasses of mischief as our class climbs through glaciers of worksheets tomorrow in our study of metaphors.

Your remorseful and already completely punished son,

Derek

About the author:
I am a high school social studies teacher at Washburn High School in Minneapolis. I graduated from Washburn myself in 1977.

I have been publishing my own education humor newsletter, Learning Laffs (www.learninglaffs.com), for twelve years now. This story is from my newsletter.