Leaping Ahead Of The Teacher

(At the beginning of my freshman year of high school, my great-grandmother died. The ensuing funeral activities, requiring a flight across the country, put me out of school for eight days after having only attended one day so far that year. As a result, when I return, I don’t know my teachers very well. This occurs on my first day back.)

Teacher: “[My Name], since you were gone so long, can you tell me why we have a leap year every four years?”

Me: “Because a day isn’t exactly 24 hours, it’s—”

(I finish my sentence, though he talks over me for this particular part.)

Teacher: “23 hours and 56 minutes.”

Me: *finishing my sentence without skipping a beat* “…and four seconds.”

(The rest of the class suddenly “OOOOOH”s, making me a bit anxious because I have no clue what I did wrong.)

Teacher: “I’ll let it slide this once, because you haven’t been here. But you never correct a teacher.”

(For the rest of class, I would catch my classmates glancing over and snickering. By the time class was over, I was almost in tears from the ridicule.)