There's Just No Class For This...

So yesterday, I wrote about the mysteries of the 7th grade boy.

Today, I found no answers.  Only more questions.

In 4th period, one of my guys was rummaging in his zip-up binder (just a modern-day, less-cool Trapper Keeper in my opinion).  That binder is where both homework and logic go to die.  In a 5 minute span, he took out a key, 8 markers, a half-eaten Pop-Tart, and a stick of deodorant.

I watched him stare at the Speedstick for a minute or so before I asked what he was doing.

"Trying to figure out if I put this on today."

Now... I must admit, there have definitely been rushed mornings where I perhaps have run out the door without my Secret swipe, but it only takes about 5 minutes to know I've made a huge mistake.  I go to sticky pit panic fairly quickly.  But it was 12:30 PM, and we were in the middle of composing an essay.

So I went with my go-to advice in most situations: "Better safe than sorry, man."  I assumed that he would ask to go to the bathroom and handle his business.  After 14 years, I still have not learned my lesson on assumptions.

I was reminded about the mistake of assuming when he popped the cap off and started up his shirt to deodorize his pits.  At. His. Desk.  Completely unaware.  Thankfully, his classmates happened to be working and not paying attention to him.

All I could do was advise him to go out to do this and try not to laugh.  I assume he went to the bathroom, but someone might want to check the hallway camera.

I love my university, and I think I got a pretty quality education.  But there's just no class for shit like this.