As you will discover in Episode Four From Accidental Liar to Accidental Terrorist, I’ve had my share of accidental missteps and mistakes and mishaps.

Maybe more than my share considering all the foolishness I’m sharing on the My Mother’s Diaries platforms.  Then again, I taught middle school for 44 years.  How could my past not be riddled with accidental wacky moments?

A few years ago I attended a “teaching writing with humor” workshop.  At the beginning of the session, the presenter asked volunteers for a funny teaching anecdote, so I searched my laptop and was delighted to find a long-forgotten document of funny student tales I’d once titled “Amusing Comments.”  By this time, I was in serious multi-taking mode: taking notes from the workshop presenter, cracking up at my newfound funny comments, and typing several items on a to-do list, including a reminder to add those newfound funny remarks to a folder on my home computer and a reminder to “Send note to Greg.”

Fast-forward a few days when, after a night of parent/teacher conferences, I attempted to teach a current events lesson.  It’s always a bit dicey to project anything on the so called Smart T.V. and that day was no exception, because the Portland Press Herald site featured an ad for something called (and I’m not kidding here) the Red Meat Kangaroo Pocket Hoodie, complete with a sweatshirt that looked like, well, rare beef.  So we all processed this a bit, and then I tried to shift attention away from the bloody slab of a sweatshirt and onto the current event. Taking into account the average attention span of an eighth grader, they read the newspaper article in about seven seconds. 

To reinforce the homework assignment, I clicked on the assignment sheet.

Five seconds later, the class dissolved into laughter.

“What are you laughing at?” I queried in my best “the-Red-Meat-Kangaroo-Pocket-Hoodie-

was more-than-I-could-handle-today-and-you’d-better-stop-laughing-and-take-this-

assignment-seriously” voice.

“Uh, Miss B, do you have a self-esteem problem?” one student inquired.  Her peers peered at me.

“What,” I responded in a slow, slightly irritated teacher tone, “are you talking about?”

“Why did you write “Send Amusing Comments to myself”?  

“Do you need reminders to make you laugh?”  

“Are you ok?”

“Who’s Greg?”

Befuddled, I turned around, looked up at the television, and there it was, in bold print, on the bottom of the assignment sheet: my personal to-do list.

All I can say is it could have been worse.  It could have been a page from my diary.