F-ing

After sitting in standstill traffic due to a major accident on the freeway, I am twenty minutes late to my first class of the day. I have called ahead, so there is a security guard waiting with my class. I literally sprint into my classroom, apologizing for my tardiness. Having sat in the car for more than an hour and a half on what is normally a twenty-five minute drive, I am thoroughly flustered. Accordingly, I hastily write a big letter F on the board, explaining it stands for flustered, freeway, and frustration. I attempt to begin my lesson for the day, but I am forced to improvise to a large extent after being unable to make the copies I intended to make before class started. Essentially, I make a fool of myself, which my students find funny. After a third unsuccessful try at stammering through a simple instruction, I finally level with my students: "You need to have your parents call the school and tell them Mr. [Kevin] needs to be fired." A few minutes later, however, I hit my stride and realize I am actually legitimately educating again. Whew. Since it has been awhile since I've used a word beginning with F, I rack my brain to formulate a relevant word, sharing my inner-monologue aloud. From the second row, I hear my student Vicente* causing an audible stream of air to escape eir lips. Assuming ey is similarly making an F noise in an attempt to come up with a word beginning with the letter, I ask, "Vicente, are you F-ing?" Immediately, Vicente, a reserved kid, shoots me a mortified glare, while the rest of the class erupts in laughter. Recognizing the accidental humor in my statement, I can only throw my head back and laugh, as well. "Yes," I acknowledge. "I did just ask if a student was F-ing in class." "Who would F in class?" comes a shout from the back. I explain what I think Vicente had been doing, a claim Vicente denies, so the hilarity of the situation is further extended. "Okay," I sigh, chuckling. "Remember to have your parents mention this story when they call to have me fired."