Homework Blues

As I shuffled into the classroom, I knew that Mr. Van Camp would never believe me. I looked at my scuffed shoes and mumbled, " My homework is not done, Sir. I do have a good excuse though."

Mr. Van Camp scowled as he looked up from the papers he was marking. "This is not the first time your homework has not been completed. Perhaps," he suggested, "it's time to speak with your parents."

"Please, you have no idea what will happen to me if you phone my home," I moaned.

"Well, let's hear your excuse. It better be good."



"Yesterday," I started, "I was walking my pet chicken and I..."


Mr. Van Camp interjected, "Wait, you have a pet chicken that you walk?"


"Let me finish my story!" I yelled angrily.


"Okay," apologized Mr. Van Camp, "continue then."


"So I was walking the chicken, and writing my essay on my brand new iPad. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a ferocious kangaroo. It was charging right at me and..."


"Wait, a kangaroo in Penticton?"


I was getting frustrated with this man's need to interrupt me in the middle of my story. Softly, I replied, "I visited Australia last night."


"You really expect me to believe that?" he responded, raising an eyebrow.


"Yeah, don't worry, I have pictures." I refuted, pondering how this half-witted oaf can't apprehend my story.


Mr. Van Camp looked at me mindlessly, a steady flow of drool escaping the corner of his mouth.


"Mr. Van Camp?" I inquired, worried.


He snapped out of it. "Sorry, that happens sometimes when I think really hard."


"I'm going to leave now." I announced, slowly stepping out of the class.


And so, I parted and left Mr. Van Camp standing there in the class, alone. He forgot to call my parents. I excelled the rest of the year, getting a 103% final mark, and never missing another assignment.