Bob Mount: Nothing wrong with a little mischief

Quite a while ago I was attending a family reunion in Waynesboro, Tenn., where I attended school during first and second grades. I mentioned a problem I was having with my late son, Robert Jr.: “Robert seems to relish making mischief.”
I related the following: “Just the other day, his teacher called and said, ‘Dr. Mount, please come and get Robert.’ ”

Robert was a second grader, and “judging from the teacher’s tone of voice, I thought he may have had an accident. I arrived at the school and the teacher, Robert, and his classmates were standing outside.” “What’s the matter?” I asked.

The teacher said, “Robert released a snake in the classroom.” I entered the room and retrieved the ten-inch long harmless ringneck snake.

“How do you know it was Robert?” I asked.

“Because all the other students were standing on their chairs, screaming, and Robert just sat in his chair with a grin on his face.” Robert continued his mischievous ways until an incident occurred shortly after he entered middle school. A stern disciplinarian, Sergeant Messina was principal. One day, Robert threw a biscuit at one of his buddies, which missed his target and landed with a splash in a girl’s soup. Sergeant Messina, standing in the doorway, witnessed the incident.

“Not only did Robert’s bottom get spanked by Messina, but he had to perform mess hall duties for two hours after school each day for a week. That got his attention.”

My cousin’s wife, Toopie, who attended grammar school with me, spoke up. “Robert Hughes, Robert Junior’s behavior suggests he’s just a chip off the old block. Maybe you don’t remember, but I do. You were the most mischievous boy in our class.”

I do remember having been spanked several times, one of which was for slipping a blue-tailed lizard under a girl’s blouse. Admittedly, I was not a model student in deportment, and don’t recall ever having made better than a “C,” but I seldom if ever failed to make lower than “B” in academic subjects.

In high school in Albany, Ga., I played hooky a couple of times. A friend and I went duck hunting early one morning and hunted squirrels the rest of the day. Our excuse for missing school, “The car got stuck in the mud, and it took all day to get it un-stucked,” was met with skepticism, but the only punishment received was an “F” in deportment and a stern lecture by my father.

The other time I played hooky was when I and some of my buddies decided to seek respite from the stifling heat and humidity in the school by spending the day at our favorite swimming place. We’d been there about an hour when a car pulled up. A man stepped out and shouted, “Boys, get out of the creek, put your clothes on, and drive to school. I am the truant officer, and I am doing everything I can to ensure that you young’uns get a good education.”

I’d like to thank all those truant officers working in the schools today.

Bob Mount is emeritus professor of zoology and entomology at Auburn University and writes a weekly column for the Opelika-Auburn News.