Guardian Angel w/ a Sick Sense of Humor

         Okay, so here’s the deal. About seven years ago I was doing some self-reflecting per Oprah’s advice (admittedly, maybe not one of my wisest moments).  I realized I could go around like half of the world does and feel sorry for myself for every little obstacle life throws in my way, or I could do the obvious:  I can realize my life's a living cartoon and laugh along with it.  You may think I’m joking, or perhaps, even exaggerating.  I'm not.  My life's a walking, talking hyperbole (throwing in a literary term to impress those with intelligence - don’t know if I used it right, but hey it’s gotta be worth something!)
         
    Seriously, sort of, my Guardian Angel has a sick sense of humor.  Not sick like evil, but sick as in unexpected.  For example, people in my life now call any rare occurrences that happen to anyone as  “Audra (that’s me) moments".  Let’s think of such an occurrence. . . . . tapping fingers. So many to choose from.    Ahhhhh ha - I call this one “Wishing for Blindness".
         
    I teach middle school in a small, rural community.  Not to toot (that’s a funny word) my own horn, but the kids actually like me; probably because I like them and can still relate to what they face.  As I’m sure you’ve noticed there is a trend of the gentlemen wearing their pants rather, let’s just say, below the waist line.  Don’t worry, I have yet to give into this trend, plus I’m a female, so I doubt I will. 
         
    A certain student who I didn’t have in class yet seemed to take a fancy to stopping by my room.  I’ll call him “James”. He developed this song and dance of trying to come into my class before every hour.  “Come on, Ms. R, ya know you ain’t got no one no smarter in yo English class then me.”  I then redirected him toward the correct class, ignoring the multitude of grammatical errors in that one sentence, and told him to pull up his pants. 
         
    With this next paragraph, I will try not to inflict the scarring image that lives in my mind to this day.  Keep in mind though, I’m trying to prove my point about my Guardian Angel so I must not hold back.  As James turned around to give me a high five and a beaming smile, his pants had fallen below the pelvic bone.  He was wearing boxers this particular day - and I’m so, so, so, sorry to say his “who-ha” had escaped and was also smiling at me.  You may be thinking I’m a pervert for looking there, but remember I was telling him to pull his pants up.  And you know, when something is out of the ordinary we notice it.  It's like watching a Nascar crash. 
         
    So what did I do?  Politely, look away?  Keep my cool?  Sorry folks, no Audra moment goes that way.  I instinctively screamed.  I couldn’t help it - hence the word “instinctively.”  I’m sorry,  it was a “who-ha”, IN A MIDDLE SCHOOL HALLWAY!  They don’t train you for that.  Now I did recover and say I'd seen a spider.  Yes, I know that’s real original, but it created a diversion for James to pull the flipping pants up.
         
    To this day I don’t know if James knows Little Jimmy escaped, and I don’t care to know.  I’m just saying this kind of thing happens to me on a regular basis.  Not “who-has” mind you, but incidents like that. 
         
    So there you have it, a peek into Audra’s cartoon world of “My Guardian Angel has a Sick Sense of Humor.” Lol - don’t worry; I’m sure there will be more installments; I’ve found this quite cleansing.