Fashion Handbags-Remember Freddy

I have a little sign on the wall near my desk that reads "Remember Freddy." Occasionally someone asks, "Who is Freddy?" Among the top ten stupid notions that have afflicted my cranium, one deserves special mention...the yen to become a junior high-school teacher. During my preparation for this adventure, I was asked to substitute for a class of 5th graders. I assumed, of course, that fifth graders were much easier to handle than seventh buy designer handbags. These two notions occurred during a period in my life I now label as 'naive'. Mrs. Wasson was in the classroom at 7:30 AM when I arrived. "You are the substitute I presume," she exclaimed. This tall and self-possessed teacher greeted me cheerfully. She was young and pleasant, and her smile seemed genuine... not like the kind normally reserved for bums, substitute teachers and other low-life buy fashion handbags. After discussing the assignments, I asked about problem students... disciplinary cases in particular. She mentioned a couple of kids who tended to be a little rowdy. Mrs. Wasson paused thoughtfully, placed a thin finger on her cheek in the pose of the competent professional, and said, "...and then there is Freddy." I chuckled, "So you are saving the worst for last designer handbags. The bad dude. The real problem kid!" "No, it's not that", she said pensively. "Freddy hasn't a malicious bone in his body. It's just that..." she paused, searching for the right expression. "Well, Freddy, you see, is determined to have a good time no matter where he is. You'll just have to be firm." The beginnings of a grin lifted the corner of her petite mouth. "You'll see what I mean." She turned briskly and headed to the door, with a wave of the hand over shoulder, and a friendly "good luck". The students arrived and the class began normally. I checked the seating chart and found Freddy. He was in the back, writing, and presenting no problems fashion handbags.