The One With the Teacher Taking My Yo-Yo.
It starts with a solicitor given permission to present yo-yos to the entire 3rd grade class. Everyone buys a yo-yo, including me, and they become an instant hit. I start learning tricks and sharing techniques with my classmates.
The teacher confiscates my yo-yo because I wouldn’t stop playing with it in class so I run home to my dad and cry hysterically. I ask my Father if he could get my yo-yo back, and he agrees, grabbing his keys, and loading his piece; a handgun.
I created a monster. My Father was an alcoholic and drug addict, and had been known to make questionable decisions. Bringing a loaded handgun to an elementary school was one of them.
Trying to deescalate the situation I tell my father that it’s not a big deal. We continue to walk around campus, we walk through the halls, and literally no one is to be seen. I tell my father again that I don’t need my yo-yo and that the teacher promised to give it the next day.
We go home. The end.
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