Lefties
The English teacher who used to work in my room must have loved left-handed people, because she left about 20 pairs of scissors, and half of them are lefties. What percentage of the population is lefties - like, five percent? Anyway, after watching three periods of students struggle with lefty scissors, I decided to warn my seventh period:
ME: So, for whatever reason, half of the scissors in this bucket are lefties. Check the scissors before you take them back to your seat. If they say "lefties" on the blades, you can't use them with your right hand. They won't work. I promise.
Five minutes later, I hear:
SEAN:(whining) Ugh! It's so hard to be a lefty!
I walk over, and Sean is clumsily trying to cut paper with lefty scissors, but has cleverly decided to try using his left hand to do so. He is obviously a righty.
ME: Did I not just give you a long talk about using lefties?
SEAN: (whining) Yeah, but it was dark.
ME: What?
SEAN: It was dark, and it was raining.
(silence)
SEAN: And I fell.
ME: It was dark and raining in my classroom, and you fell, and lefty scissors landed in your left hand.
SEAN: Yes.
(pause)
ME: That's a very sad story.
TOGETHER: You(I) should write a book about it.
Sean and I stare at each other.
EMILY: That was weird.
ME: I'm going to walk away now.
SEAN: Please.