A Garbo Moment

Here at the end of the day I would like credit for not screaming at the top of my lungs.

Teenagers are teenagers. Today was no day in particular; nothing much went wrong. I didn't get frustrated. I kept my sense of humor. I didn't bring the room to silence with called-for-or-not harsh words. Everybody was here and everybody pretty much did as they were told. But nobody left me alone. I seem to have reached my limit.

"Ms. P!"

"Ms. P!"

"Ms. P!"

"Ms. P!"

"Ms. P!"

"Yes." "Yes." "Yes?" "Yes." "Yes!"

Don't they have anywhere else to go? I mean, I KNOW they do. I have proof written and digital. But every time I turn around, they're back again. AGAIN. I'm pretty sure some of them never leave.

Even when I lock the door and pretend to be gone, they knock. When I don't answer and sneak out for lunch they must conduct surveillance, for when I return, they're waiting for me, a gauntlet by the door.

"Hello! I have a test."

"Hello! I have a pass."

"Hello! I brought my lunch."

"Hello!" and an accusation: "Where were you? We were here!"

No doubt!