For some reason, in my junior year of high school, the assistant principal elected himself my emotional/ethical guardian.
That is to say, he made it his business to dissuade me from dating my boyfriend.
He deemed the match unacceptable and took it upon himself to talk me out of it.
The tack he decided to take was to ‘reason’ me out of it.
To that end, every day during second period (and I assumed he waited until second period so that he could have his morning coffee and steel himself to face me) the phone in my Spanish class would ring and he would call me to his office.
It got to be such a regular event; the teacher moved my seat next to the phone and told me to answer it when it rang.
And so it went.
His concern was that I was making a HUGE mistake and ruining my life!
After I got over being angry that he was sticking his nose into something that was none of his business I kind of enjoyed these daily diatribes.
I’m always up for a good argument, and I came back at him with some very sound and defendable lines of reasoning.
Plus it got me out of Spanish class.
And let’s face it, that was a good thing!
Until I got my report card……….