(I am an assistant in a kindergarten class. A student randomly puts her hand on my stomach.)

Student: “Is there a baby in there?”

Me: “No.”

Student: “Why not?”

Me: “I didn’t call the stork to deliver it yet.”

(However, I inadvertently lied to her. Four weeks later, I was told by my doctor that I was six weeks pregnant. I later laughed about how the student had called my pregnancy at two weeks to my lead teacher who said that she hoped the student didn’t do that to her or she’d head straight for the doctor.)

(This is an advanced psychology class, and we have finished our finals so the teacher is letting us watch a movie. He has a collection of movies that in some way deal with psychology, and explains about each one a bit.)

Teacher: “Okay, so, this one is Mean Girls. Lindsay Lohan is in this one; she was so good in Parent Trap. But now she’s a sinner, what with her dancing and language.”

(It is the end of the year, and almost every classroom is being used for testing. Because of this, my class has been forced to wait in the hallway. All of us are all tired and hot. Classmate #1 is lying on their backpack.)

Classmate #2: *walks over to [Classmate #1]*

Classmate #1: “Don’t touch me.”

Classmate #2: *hovers hands over [Classmate #1] without touching them*

Classmate #1: “Stop it.”

Classmate #2: “Stop what? I’m not doing anything.”

Classmate #1: “[My Name], make him stop.”

Me: “[Classmate #2], stop doing nothing.”

Classmate #2: *pokes [Classmate #1]*

(Most of the camp, about 100 people, are waiting in line. Some others are playing board games off to the side.)

Student #1: *in board games area* “This game is RIGGED! RIGGED, I TELL YOU!”

(Everyone turns to look at Student #1.)

Student #2: *in line* “What game are they playing?”

Student #3: *in line* “Life.”

Substitute: “You! Stop doing that!”

Me: *looking around* “What?”

Substitute: “THAT!”

Me: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Substitute: *storming up and taking my pen out of my hand* “THAT!”

(She puts the pen in my right hand.)

Me: “But I’m left-handed.”

Substitute: “No, you aren’t. You’re an abuse survivor who needs to learn how to live in the real, NORMAL, world.”

(I stare at her in total confusion.)

Substitute: “Your parents are drug abusers who had nothing better to do than torture their son. Now, it’s all right; it will take time to adjust, but you will soon realise that those year of neglect and pain will ease, and that you have been right-handed all along! *goes back to the whiteboard*

(I kept switching back to my left hand, but she kept coming over to scold me. She eventually gave me a detention, but I didn’t go. I’m so happy she was just a substitute and I thankfully never saw her again.)