“The Adventures of being Tardy”

“The Adventures of being Tardy”
“Brian, this is the fourth time in a row you’ve been tardy!” Mrs. Cumming’s eyes opened if she was about to kill somebody.
“I am sooooo sorry, Mrs. Cumming. I won’t be tardy again. I’m ashamed of myself,” Brian explained, “but I have a good excuse!” He straightened the front of his New York Giants’ football jacket with his black hands while he was looking at the clock straight ahead.
“Yes, you always do.” She crossed her arms and tapped her foot repeatedly. “‘Well, I’ll tell you what. This time I’ll let the class decide if it’s an excused tardy or not. Why were you late this time, Brian?”

Brian’s high cheekbones and the shape of his nose hinted some Cherokee was mixed in with his African blood. “Well, I was trying to get back to school after lunch, you know the line was so long and I had to wait forever to get my numba one at McD’s, you know the one wit the Big Mac, French Fries, and that soda, and I was bout to super size it but I didn’t have no sixty-nine cent!” said Brian, his bubblegum crackling in his mouth like BBs falling on a tile floor. “Just as I was pulling out of the parking lot onto the highway this big oil truck smashed into a little Pink Volkswagen with 28 inch rims!”
Rolling her eyes playfully, Mrs. Cumming exaggerated, “Oh, really?”
Brian looked at his Air Forces as he continued with his story, only allowing his eyes to peek at his audience once. “And I had to decide: Am I going to be late to Mrs. Cumming’s class again or I am gonna try to rescue that poor little baby out of the back seat of that car?”
“So of course . . . ” Mrs. Cumming interrupted with a grin.
“Wait Mrs. Cumming can I go to the gentlemen’s bathroom pleeease!”, Mrs. Cumming replied, “Its either you are tardy or you will go to the bathroom, chose!”. “Mrs. Cumming I think my blatter can control its self right now.” Mrs. Cumming eagerly said, “Now back to your story!”.

“So of course I really didn’t have a choice, now did I? So I jerked open the car door, tried to untangle the kid out of his car seat. Oh, Mrs. Cumming, his little face was covered with blood, there was glass everywhere, and he was just screaming.” Brian looked her in the eye for the first time to see how he was doing but Mrs. Cumming seemed so entertained with his story. “So I handed him to an ambulance medic that had just pulled up and then I just reached across the seat and grabbed that poor sobbing screaming Mommy out of her seat and dragged her out onto the pavement ‘cause I was fricken scared to death that I felt like I gotta pee in my paints, and an oil gas truck was goin’ to explode any minute and...”
Suddenly Mrs. Cumming chuckled, “So what do you think, class? Excused tardy or unexcused, Excused tardy or unexcused, Excused tardy or unexcused?”

“Excused, Excused, Excused!” they all yelled with amusement and laughing at Brian’s latest heroic adventure.
“Thank you, friends and fellow students in Mrs. Cumming class!”, exclaimed Brian but humbly, nodding his head toward his classmates and heading toward his seat in the back. “Thank you Mrs. Cumming. I won’t be tardy tomorrow. Unless I see a robbery in progress or something...”