Do you have a story of mayhem from your elementary schools days you can share?

I seem to recall picking my nose and flicking a booger on my teacher’s leg during storytime.
does that count as mayhem?

@fireside That’s enviable, good shot!

I stuck my tongue out at my fifth grade teacher from the window of the bus one day. Although I did not understand my own motivation at the time, I did it because I had a crush on him. His nickname was “Handsome Hanson.”

After doing what to me was an totally inexplicable thing, I was absolutely sick with apprehension since I was a “good girl” and good student. I faked sick and stayed home the next day, a Friday.

Over the weekend, while playing with some kids in the neighborhood, I heard he had assigned the class to write 100 times, “I must not be rude to the teacher.” With trepidation, I did my essay and turned it in on Monday.

The angst was huge through the entire ordeal. Of course, by turning in the essay when I had not been there when it was assigned, I probably gave myself away. He never said a word to me, but I was a wreck the rest of the school year.

Later, I figured out he didn’t know who it was on the bus—thus the punishment for the whole class.

I have 2…

In third grade I went to a good school in a bad neighborhood and one morning just before class started our classes window got shot out.

The second story is a little more funny: my friend and I always seemed to get in trouble for talking in and one day our teacher threatened to put fridgerator boxes over our desks with holes in the front so we could only look forward. We thought she was bluffing so we continued talking out in class. She wasn’t bluffing.

Sorry for the poor spelling I wrote this on my phone

There was a boy that had a crush on me. Everyday he would leave me a piece of candy or something he drew on my desk or in my desk. These were the desks that you could lift the top and put your books and stuff on the inside.

One day (same things on my desk), another girl – Lori, came over and yelled at me that I took her one true love. Like the snot that I was being that day, I announced loudly, that he was my love. I was going to marry him. (4th grade love) She broke out in tears (keep in mind, he never liked her – I didn’t steal him) and ran out of the room. Before I knew it, we all wound up in the office because Lori refused to go back into the room if we were there…the Assistant Principal could hardly contain her laughter.

@cak You were quite the heart breaker. :)

I went to a Catholic school and stole from God. No joke.

@chyna – a trollop in the 4th grade!

Ha I remember being in the lunch line in 2nd grade, getting into a fist fight with the kid in front of me, and then puking on them. All in a days work!

Catholic School. Priest tells us in “health class” that a penis looks like a thumb. And he proceeds to wiggle his thumb. I go home and look through Halloween shit and find a hand, cut off the thumb and the next morning I put it on the nun’s seat. She sits on it and eeks! I say, out loud, “another virgin gone”. Ohhh….I still feel badly today…I think my mom still secretly hates me because of the phone call she got…ahhh..well

@Allie – I’m cracking up! I got in trouble in Catholic school for stealing – even though I truly didn’t mean to steal. I packed something in my bag, not meaning to and took it with me for the weekend. I didn’t even look in my bag, the entire weekend. Monday morning I was in trouble! I think I got lectured for 30 mins and was told I needed to go to confession. It was a set – protractor and small ruler. I had my own, I didn’t need one. I hated Catholic school!

@Sueanne_Tremendous – bwahahahahahahahahaha!!! —it is funny, though! Lurve you again!

@drClaw The boxes, you’re killing me :D

@Sueanne_Tremendous I so wish I could’ve gone to school with you.

@Allie Stealing from God = hives, warts, heavy periods, acne, unevenly sized breasts, all kinds of things ;p

My mom had told me once that if a man said or did something that made me uncomfortable to tell him I’d kick him in the nuts. I’m sure she went in to more depth than that, but that’s what I took away from it. I took this to mean any male figure getting up in my business was going to know of my nut kicking plan. A boy named Jesse was picking on me or something and knocked something off my desk, so I got up in the middle of my 1st grade class and screamed that he was a bastard and I was going to kick him in the nuts. That was the first of many times I was sent to the principal’s office.

Another day, our asshole principal was standing in for our teacher for an hour or so. I told him I wasn’t feeling well and he didn’t believe me because I was a trouble maker, and wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom. I puked on his shoes. He apologized to me and my mother.

This wasn’t in elementary school (I was in 7th grade), but it’s such a cool story, anyway:

During the winter of 7th grade, Ben the neighbor kid started terrorizing me by making gigantic snowballs and cracking them over my head while we waited for the morning school bus. I was totally helpless: I couldn’t run because it was so icy, I couldn’t fight back because Ben was so huge, and I certainly couldn’t cry or scream because I didn’t want to be the wimpy girl. So I endured the assaults, climbing into the bus every morning with a cold, wet neck and ruined hair.

This went on for a week or two, and I became more and more upset and angry. I finally told my mom what was going on. She thought for a moment and then went into my room and came back with a bottle of Malibu Musk. Malibu Musk is this tacky, cheap perfume in a palm tree-shaped bottle that young girls used to like.

My mom held up the bottle and instructed me to take it with me tomorrow morning, hidden in my jacket pocket. She told me to warn Ben one more time, and if he didn’t leave me alone, to spray him with it. I scoffed but took it.

The next day, the scene played out just like that. It was almost comical: Bullying Ben looming over me with a basketball-sized snowball, me politely asking him to stop, and then me whipping out the perfume and spraying half the bottle on him. I was thorough, too; I got it in his hair, on his coat, on his backpack. He. was. pissed.

Ben reeked of that stuff all day. And man, did he get teased. ‘Cause of course, everyone recognized the scent of Malibu Musk.

He left me alone after that.

@juniper That is an excellent idea. In fact, it should be suggested to kids to hit the thrift stores and find old AVON smellies to use as mace-type sprays.

@VzzBzz, haha, yeah. I think my mom’s ulterior motive was for me to use up that junk so I wouldn’t wear it.

@chyna: In retrospect it looks fun, but i was kinda dangerous to hang around.

On a $5 bet in kindergarten from a boy in my class (I think his name was Theodore), I climbed up the side of my school building. In those days, I wore puffy dresses, little underpants with triple rows of lace and patent Mary Janes with cutesy ankle socks. I think my guardian thought she was dressing a doll.

Anyway, not only did the playground get a good peepshow, I got to look in the office that was on the first floor and wave “Hi!” to the admin. She screamed, which I thought was funny. The janitor was out in a flash with a ladder and got me down. I got a lickin’ once I was home and my $5 the next day. Still had to wear dresses to school until 2nd grade.

@juniper : I love it! I wish I would’ve thought of that in my days of being bullied! What a good mommy you have. :)

I went to a catholic grade school and we had a substitute teacher who was not a nun so the day was weird already.

From our windows, which ran the length of the wall, we could see a man painting the flag pole across the street at the high school. Most of us in the class were distracted by this. For some reason the teacher left the room for a few minutes and as we were watching the man, the harness he wore broke (or something) and he fell upside down, his foot caught in the gear and keepng him from plunging to the ground.
All of us in the class jumped out of our seats and ran to the windows to see what would happen next.
About that time, the teacher walks back in the room and is mad to find us all out of our seats. We showed her what was going on as this was the most excitement we’d ever seen in our small world.
The teacher snapped at us, “haven’t you ever seem a man hang from a flag pole before?!”

In second grade we had a wedding during recess for two kids who liked each other. It was a big deal. Everyone in the grade attended. There were rings made of paper and a pastor who performed the ceremony and flowers and everything. I didn’t have any special role in the ceremony, but I remember it being very fun, and serious, and joyful.

I was in third grade when the Sacajawea dollar was introduced. My dad knew a guy who knew a guy, and I actually had one of them before they officially came out. I brought it in for show and tell, and afterward left it in my desk.

At some point I noticed it was missing. I think I told the teacher. I asked the kid who sat next to me—Anthony—if he had seen anything. He said no, but he was nervous. He had been looking at it enviously earlier. I was pretty sure he had taken it. I interrogated him a little. He took it, no doubt about it, but he wouldn’t admit to it.

That night I got a small piece of paper, a penny, and my dad’s chalk reel. I put the penny on the paper, then dumped some blue chalk on it. I wrapped the penny and chalk in the paper, taped it closed, and wrote “blue penny” on the outside.

Then I got another penny, and some green acrylic paint. I made a green penny.

The next day I showed Anthony my green penny. I also showed him the wrapped up penny, which I told him was a blue penny. I put them both in my desk, right in front.

They stayed there for a few days, but soon enough, Anthony took it. And he had the blue chalk all over his clothes to prove it.

I don’t think I ever got the Sacajawea dollar back though.

In fifth grade during recess everyone who had one had to leave their lunch box against a particular wall. My mother used to pack me a sandwich, a box of Yoo-hoo, a bag of pretzels, and a little container of pudding or jello.

After recess we went to the cafeteria to eat our lunches. I started to notice that sometimes the yoo-hoo or the pudding would be missing. So I started watching my lunch during recess. There were two kids who went around during recess taking things from people’s lunches.

So what did old Pete do? I went home and got a box of yoo-hoo. Leaving the straw attached to the back of the box, I punctured the straw-hole on top with a fork, and squirted the yoo-hoo into a cup and drank it. Then I mixed up some vinegar and lemon juice, and filled up the box with it. Using a hole punch and a piece of aluminum foil, I got a round piece of foil and glued it to the top of of box over the straw-hole. It looked like it had never been opened.

I brought two lunches to school the next day. I watched from afar as the thieves made their rounds. The look on that poor kid’s face was priceless.

@petethepothead So uhm, were you also one of the first to purchase a copy of the unibomber’s manifesto?

@petethepothead : You are awesome! You and @juniper and her mom should all totally make out.

In preschool, I learned how to “give the finger”. I was told on a couple times by this boy in my class. I ended up getting smacked on my hand with a ruler by one of the teachers. My mother had no idea I was hit with a ruler until I told her a few months ago.
That was also the only time I ever got a spanking from my father. It happened over 25 years ago and I remember it like it was yesterday.

One day we were playing baseball during recess I was up to bat, the pitch was on the way, I swung with all my might, I made contact…but not with the ball. I looked behind me and I had hit the (un protected) catcher right beside the eye. He started screaming and running to the nurse. Now he has migraines…my bad…

@petethepothead My ‘boyfriend’ and I got married several times during elementary school! We held our ceremonies at our neighborhood playground, and they were much like you described. I remember them (and him) fondly. :)

The only thing I really remember happening in elementary school was me being too polite for my own good. I think I was in 1st or 2nd grade. Our teacher had us lined up against the hallway wall, while she chatted with another teacher on our way to the library. I was taught to never interrupt adults, so I never told her I felt sick. I just puked, right there in the hallway. Lesson learned… sometimes it pays to interrupt.

Well, the teacher caught me masturbating in class during the third grade. The boy next to me dared me to do it, so I covered up with my coat and started. I was being as quiet as possible when the teacher called my name. She didn’t say anything else and the kids in class seemed not to notice anything. She called my Mom in the next day and met with us both. They explained how masturbation was perfectly normal to do but never in public. Some folks would say this is the moment my life changed because I am known to have an obsession with public places. Oh well. I blame them for it.

I think there was an incident of a misspelled ‘kick me’ sign, we dumped stolen tempera paints out of windows onto teacher’s cars, and, uh, you wouldn’t be familiar with a bee bomb, would you?

@Drawkward: ahhh, the smell of tempera paint will always be on my memory :)