How the Gentle Horse tormented a fellow human being yesterday. And enjoyed it.

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I'm not known for being mean to people, except @Vandana7, but she's such an easy target. Yesterday, as I mentioned, I went to the preschool to turn in my time card and wound up working for an hour and a half. I worked with the Pampers set, got my usual barrage of hugs, did some "reading" with the kids, sang and danced, and in general had fun. Teacher from Hell #2 (the one who discourages empathy among children) was not there. But then I felt something strange emerging on my head through my slightly sunburned (from swimming) bald spot: horns. I cackled an evil laugh and decided to say goodbye to my original kids, the 4- and 5-year-olds, where Teacher from Hell #1 is trying to undo all of the good work I did with Chance, a 5-year-old foster care refugee who now lives with his recovering addict biological father. It was lunch time in the Big Kid Room, and I stopped at a friendly teacher's lunch table "It's Horse!" the kids said, almost in unison. "Stay seated," I said. I'll give each of you a hug. I did. Then I turned toward the other table (think approaching shark music from Jaws). I saw the look of abject horror in Teacher from Hell's eyes. The children were all silent, as she likes it (animated conversation over meals is a predictor of good language development. --Dr. Horse). They had not yet seen me. I approached the table (think increasing volume to Jaws music) and one of the (six) kids saw me. "It's Horse!" She started to rush over to give me a hug, but Teacher from Hell checked her with a fixed stare and a loud "No!" (Think Wicked Witch of the West checking her winged monkeys, except that the monkeys are all big-eyed children). "Sit next to me! Sit next to me!" I calmly walked over and sat between Chance and Camila, a doe-eyed Mexican-American girl who likes to snuggle with me while we read Elephant and Piggie books together. I was less than three feet from Teacher from Hell. Chance put his right hand on my left shoulder and ate with his left hand. He said, "Horse, are you hungry?" and put some of his bread in front of me. I said, "We don't share food here, but thanks for thinking of me. I really appreciate it. I already ate, but thanks." Camila said, "Horse, do you remember 'minty fresh'?" I said "Of course I remember 'minty fresh,' but I left my Altoids in my truck." I checked the area in front of Teacher from Hell. There were no sharp knives there. She looked angry but remained silent. I asked Teacher from Hell how she was doing. She replied, "Fine, thank you." She did not ask how I was doing. A child opposite me at the table pouted and said, "You're not sitting next to me!" I said, "I have a clever plan. When I sit between two of you, I'm sitting next to two kids at once!" (I didn't mention that I had just secretly gotten them to think about math.) I went over and sat between/behind her and another child. "I came to say goodbye, because I'm going up to Montana tomorrow. There are big big mountains up there." We discussed whether "ten days" is a long time or a short time, and then Chance said, "I want to go to Montana with you!" I explained that his daddy would miss him, but maybe we could go on a hike with his daddy some day. Chance pretend-pouted and said "We never go hiking." By this time, Teacher From Hell's look was more one of resignation than of horror or anger. Samantha said, "You're still not sitting next to me." I went and sat between/behind Samantha and Dalaysa. After some more conversation, I explained that I had to go get my truck fixed before I "hit the road." Teacher from Hell breathed a sigh of relief, and I was gone. (What kind of music would work here?) Just how evil am I? Will I be struck by lightning up in Montana? My horns have settled back down (I had my hat on during lunch, so nobody saw them). To atone for my transgression, I am going to recite Ramana Maharji's words over and over today. Questioner: So how are we to treat others? Ramana Maharji: There ARE no others. I must return to thinking of "others" as a part of the same great tapestry of which I too am a part. I will try my best to torment nobody on my road trip. But, dang it! Tormenting Teacher from Hell was kind of fun!