Confessions Of A Smart Mouth Teenager

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I don't say this with a great deal of pride, but since writing seems to make us feel that we have to bare our soul to the world, why not.....I'll go ahead and tell you. I was a smart mouth kid!! There, I've said it and now it's out. I wasn't a mean or malicious kid....far from it. No, my smart mouth had to do with a warped sense of humor that made me hear many remarks in two entirely different ways. I'd hear the proper meaning of the remark and then I'd hear the remark in it's literal sense and out would pop some smart mouthed response. There's an old joke that typifies exactly what I mean. I never said this exact response in public, but given a chance, there's no doubt I would have. A man comes before a Judge in a small town court. The Judge looked sternly at the man and said, "I hope you realize, you're here for drinking." With that, the man's eyes lit up as he responded, "Now you're talking, let's get started."

I was fortunate to attend a high school that offered three full years of journalism. The teacher, Mrs. Reid, was a wonderful and talented teacher and I'm sure the seeds of all writing I've done throughout my life started with her classes. She and I got along quite well, as she did with most of her students. However, that wasn't enough to save me from my smart mouth in her class, one day. On that fateful day, I entered her classroom engaged in horseplay with a friend of mine named Doug Yost. We weren't trying to hurt one another, but were just being teenagers pushing and shoving and laughing about the whole thing. Mrs. Reid was nearing the end of a terrible day having earlier had, as I learned later, a heated argument with an Assistant Principal regarding a story in the school paper (she was defending the student that wrote it). As Doug and I entered the room, she looked up at us and said, "I sent two girls to detention hall last period and if you two don't stop that right now, you're going to join them after school." Oh God, I just couldn't help myself when I responded, "Why? Are they coming apart?" With that, Mrs. Reid gave me two weeks detention hall which consisted of staying after school for an hour each day in the study hall. She gave my friend Doug one week just because he had the misfortune to be hanging around with a smart mouth. Study hall was a boring pain in the patutie and you'd think that would teach me to keep my smart mouth shut, but no, that was not to be.

Several months later I was running down the school hall with other friends shouting and basically being a teenager with too much energy when I was stopped by another teacher. I'd never taken any classes from this teacher and quite honestly, I don't remember his name, which is quite strange considering what I'm about to tell you. He glared at me and said, "Could I have your name?" Oh boy, not again. Why couldn't I have the good sense to just answer his question? But, I couldn't and I said exactly what popped into my head when I exclaimed, "Well, you might, but I kind of doubt it. What is your name?" I still might have gotten away with a reprimand if it hadn't been for a nearby younger teacher (no more than seven or eight years older than the students) who gave the impression that this was the funniest thing he'd heard all day and collapsed into fits of laughter. With that, the older teacher marched me down to the school office where Mr. Sullivan, our Principal, listened attentively as the older teacher recounted the tale of my transgression. I thought I saw the corners of Mr. Sullivan's mouth turn up ever so slightly as he listened to the story. As it turned out, after the older teacher left, I did get a mild reprimand from Mr. Sullivan before he told me I could go. I'd swear I heard soft laughter coming from his office as I walked away, but I could never be sure. I think maybe Mr. Sullivan had a sense of humor which, considering his job, probably wasn't all that bad a quality to possess.

There were other times in high school when my mouth got me in trouble, but as I grew older and moved on to college, thankfully, I would only think the smart mouth answer and keep it to myself instead of blurting it out loud. Looking back on it, I was a pretty decent kid who wasn't at all mean and never wanted to hurt anyone. But, they were right about one thing.....I certainly did have a smart mouth and for that, I often paid dearly.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ken Kreps lives in the Pacific Northwest with his wife. He has written a number of published articles, essays and short stories, as well as numerous consumer and business pieces. Ken has also written scripts for Imagination Theater, an award winning audio drama series heard on over 150 commercial radio stations across the nation.

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