Mr. Willy

I was in seventh grade and at the height of my self-esteem. I had a giant egg-sized zit that manifested itself about every two to three weeks on different parts of my face. Some were so large they looked like I was birthing a boob. Just when one would leave, another would appear. I was also tall and super thin. Let’s just say that I was a complete dweeb.

So imagine this. I’m in my seventh grade math class with a seventy-year-old teacher named Mr. Wilson. He had two claims to fame. First, at the end of each school year he would jump over the class garbage can. Given how old and frail he was that was quite the accomplishment. Second, he was known for something called the Willy Grip. If he caught you misbehaving, he would dig his spindly fingers into the back of your neck. He knew the exact nerve that would get your undivided attention. It goes without saying that I can speak of this from experience. Today they would call the Willy Grip a lawsuit. But back then it was just Mr. Willy doing his thing.

So on this day I’m in Mr. Willy’s class when I noticed a large, soft lump on my knee. I thought for sure I had grown the first-ever giant knee zit. I started to poke at it. It didn’t hurt. It was soft and puffy and I had no idea what it was. I tried pushing it around, but it wasn’t moving. I quickly assessed where Mr. Willy was located in the room. He was sitting at his desk looking like he was asleep. We were supposed to be working on algebra problems but since Mr. Willy was snoring I decided to stand up and see if I could dislodge the curious lump.

So I stood and pretended to stretch. I shook my leg a little but the lump remained stuck. I shook my leg harder and harder. I was now drawing the attention of my classmates. I can only imagine what they were thinking. I shook my leg really hard. Now most everyone was looking at me. But the thing moved. I gyrated my leg even more and now everyone was curious what was happening to me. I kicked and kicked. It felt like a piece of cloth. Then, on one strong kick, the thing flew out the bottom of my pant leg and through the air landing in the front of the class. When it finally landed, it was obvious what it was.

Mr. Willy now saw that something was happening so he stood up and went to the front of the class. Now half the class was holding back a serious case of the giggles. Mr. Willy bent over, picked up the object and showed everyone. Then he said, “Are these yours?” He held up a pair of my little sister’s underpanties. Somehow static electricity in the dryer must have decided to embarrass me that day. It worked. Since that day, I’ve always double-checked the dryer.

So let this be a lesson to you. If you are in Junior High School and you ever feel a lump on your leg. Leave it alone. You’ll thank me later.