This isn’t a reblog but an excerpt of my Royal Dansk Danish Butter Cookies post. Maybe no one but my dear blogging buddy Madame Weebles saw it because I had just started blogging. But if you have seen it, perhaps you should read it again as I’m sure you’ll gain some new and exciting insights… Yes, it was a long ass post! I wanted to highlight the fantabulous Mrs. Flynn from it — dedicate the whole damn post to her — here she is:
…my 2nd grade teacher, poor, weird Mrs. Flynn. Who let that crazy bitch into the school!? Yes, the bitch was a mental case. If you touched her, she’d yell “Don’t touch me! Don’t ever touch me!” She was a dumpy woman with a big square head, red hair, and very pale skin. She kept always on her desk a tin of Royal Dansk Danish Butter Cookies which she never offered to us kids. I loved Royal Dansk Danish Butter Cookies, and would eye them covetously, fantasizing about a day when she would change her non-sharing ways. She ate them anytime she wanted, right in front of us – the buttery pretzel shaped ones, with chunky sugar granules on them. Something about her piggish face reminds me of the Nazi female prison commander in Seven Beauties.
One day she told us that we weren’t going to practice spelling, or numbers or any of that shit. Instead she commanded us to run around in circles in the classroom – that’s right, just run around. Some of the boys took to it immediately and ran around like maniacs, banging into tables, chairs, and into each other, falling down all over the place. By the end they were all red faced, sweaty and ripped up. And Mrs. Flynn from behind her desk screamed, “Don’t stop, run, run – keep running, yeah!” She then went back to reading the paper and eating butter cookies. A few girls ran with abandon as well, their little skirts hiked up in friction around their tights, but I remember the circle of us who just sat there, scared — Martin, Michelle and maybe a couple of others. A couple of those kids were crying because they knew that this was not normal and that Mrs. Flynn had lost her marbles, and that she was an adult and what were we supposed to do now. I didn’t cry but sat there staring, freaked. What a crazy scene!
I think about those stupid kids today, the ones who just ran around enjoying it. Are these the ones who grew up to take advantage of the moment, to live life to the fullest? The bungee jumpers, parachuters, and Polar Bear Club members? Or maybe they’re in prison. I think I heard that Mrs. Flynn found out that she had a brain tumor. I think she had just found out and had a nervous breakdown the day she told us to run around. But still I mean come on, why take it out on little kids. But the poor thing probably had a weird time of it with life in general, what with her aversion to being touched and to sharing her Royal Dansk Danish Butter Cookies.