Attack Of The Flying Cat

I was in seventh grade. My middle school had kindergarten through eighth grade, and I, being a bit of a know-it-all, had never done anything to mar my perfect record. It’s important to note that my school was… special. We were one of the best schools in the state. To put it plainly, we were all a bunch of nerds. 

Every year towards summer, we would have academic performances. We would spend months preparing to present what we learned that year to our parents.

Fast forward to the end of the day. The parents of our classmates had all just left. They had just left us in the science classroom with absolutely no supervision until the sixth graders were finished presenting in our classroom. 

Being rowdy seventh graders, we were quickly bored. We’d spent our entire day on our best behavior and we were worn out. We had just come from the English classroom and had finished presenting our stage plays. My group had needed a stuffed cat as a prop. By the time we made it to science, I was still carrying the toy around. My friend and I started to slowly toss the cat back and forth. I know; this was a terrible idea in a science lab. 

At one point another, one of my friends stood between us and was trying to catch it, forcing us to throw longer and longer, until suddenly, the first friend missed the cat. It flew right over her head and smashed straight into a sixth grader’s popsicle bridge project, knocking it off the table. 

It just so happened that the moment it flew off the desk was also the moment the teacher walked into the classroom. It turns out, that bridge was from the only sixth-grade class that hadn’t tested the strength of their bridges yet. We had knocked over the only untested bridge on the table. Great. 

Our head of discipline actually laughed when he found out what we had done. The only thing on my permanent record was vandalism. I had knocked over a popsicle bridge with a flying cat.