Weekend Theme: Amusing Consequences

As I was lying in bed this morning in that dozy state of half consciousness, I was thinking about my fuss free cheesecake recipe and how easy it is to make, when out of nowhere it seems, an image of Miss Mizen popped into my head. This middle-aged spinster was my domestic science teacher at grammar school. She was very prim and proper, always dressed in twin-set and pearls and a just below the knee tweed skirt, Her strawberry blonde hair  was always set in the same style, with not a hair out-of-place. In fact this phenomenon was the subject of much conjecture amongst my school friends and I, and the general consensus was that it had to be a wig. Children can be so cruel, can’t they?

I had chosen Domestic Science as a subject because I thought it would be easier than learning all those dates which are required for History, or mastering those dreaded contour maps and capital cities in order to pass in Geography. Our weekly lessons were held in a fair-sized lab furnished with long wooden tables, the tops of which were bleached almost white by countless years of ardent scrubbing by past students, trying to earn the approval of generations of Miss Mizens. The cooking part of the class always finished well ahead of time, as we had to wash pots and pans and then make those tables absolutely spotless before we were allowed to leave. It was the last class of the day on a Friday, so it was imperative that all this was achieved in double-quick time. Five minutes before the ‘get out of jail’ bell rang, we would all be seated in our allotted places, holding our breath whilst she swept down to inspect the sink and cooking area, and then very slowly, with cat-like tread in her brown leather brogues, she would walk around to each table making sure that not a speck of flour or grease was visible to her hawk-like gaze.

At breakfast on the day in question, our mom had opened a new box of Kelloggs Cornflakes and in those days, all cereal packets contained a little plastic toy or novelty. My sister and I used to take it in turns to lay claim to these prize items and as soon as the packet was opened, would dig around to find what was in there. It was usually right near the bottom of course. Anyway, my find on this particular day, was a navy blue plastic ink blot, such an innocuous and unexciting bit of rubbish, but I slipped it into my blazer pocket before leaving for school.


Maybe some of you can guess what is coming next, and yes you’re right. As soon as Miss Mizen had passed my table on her way to the kitchen area, a little devil got into me and I surreptitiously slipped the plastic ink blot which was very realistic, onto the table in front of me. To this day, I can’t believe that timid little me, who looked like butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth, was brave enough to do such a dastardly deed.


As she slowly walked along doing her inspection, my heart was pounding with anticipation and dread, but I just couldn’t bring myself to remove it before she got to me. I just had to see her reaction, whatever the consequences may be. Well, she exploded in a frenzy of shock and disbelief that someone should be so mean as to desecrate her beloved white-wood table with a big ink stain. Her face went as red as a tomato, and I was afraid she was going to have an apoplectic fit, so to calm her down, I nonchalantly picked up the offending piece of plastic and popped it back into my pocket. The room was so silent that you could have heard a pin drop. None of my fellow pupils dared to laugh, but I just couldn’t wipe the smirk off my face. She didn’t punish me, as I hadn’t really done anything wrong, but needless to say, I wasn’t her favourite pupil and didn’t pass with flying colours at the end of the year. She didn’t see the funny side at all and I’m sure she never forgave me. It’s odd the things that stick in your mind for decades. I can’t remember one thing I ever made in her class, except for baked apples with raisins and lots of syrup, and I only remember this, because on the bus going home, the syrup leaked out of the dish, all over the seat next to me. I felt really sorry for the next passenger who would come and sit in that seat after I got off.

This post is in reply to my friend Sidey’s weekend theme, ‘Amusing Consequences’.

76 comments on “Weekend Theme: Amusing Consequences

  1. We probably all have that one teacher who stands out. For me it was my Spanish teacher, Ms. Yackle. To this day I still shutter thinking about her. 😉

  2. Hilarious. Miss Shipley was my cooking teacher. I remember making snickerdoodles and getting one of three Ds I ever received in all the years I attended school. Believe it or not I got a D for talking! Can you imagine? Quiet little Marsha? I also got a D one semester in PE for not wearing the proper gym clothes, and one in algebra for talking too much. He hit me over the head with a yardstick once. Needless to say, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one he hit and he didn’t last another year in our school.

    • I have no clue what a snickerdoodle is, so I’m sure I wouldn’t get a very high mark either. 🙂 It’s funny how my post has brought forth a few confessions from my readers. 😆

      • haha, you have that knack – you are so honest. Who would ever suspect YOU, sweet Sylvia, of doing such a thing. And I can just see your teacher’s horrified face! And her humiliation when you quietly stuck the splotch into your purse. Too bad she didn’t have a sense of humor! That was one of the funniest posts I have ever read because it was so out of what I would expect to hear from you! You are a fire cracker. A snickerdoodle is a sugar cookie rolled in cinnamon and sugar before it is baked. The more cinnamon and sugar on it, the better, and it should be just SLIGHTLY underbaked so that it is slightly chewy. mmmmm Crispy snickerdoodles just don’t do it for me. Baby Cakes in Kingsburg, CA has the best snickerdoodles in the WORLD! I’m an expert! 🙂

      • They are yummy. With all your culinary talents, you could make them easily. They were a first project in a 7th grad cooking class! 🙂

  3. It is always the quiet angels that surprise. I think you instinctively tried to see if there was some hint of joy in her life. Alas…. But I admire the effort of a little girl who tried to give the gift of humor. Precious …

    • Dear Rebecca. I absolutely love the positive spin you have put on my mischievous escapade. You’ve almost convinced me I did it for Miss Mizen’s own good. 🙂

  4. That is such a funny story! I can’t believe you had the nerve to do that if, as you say, you were “timid little” you! The part of the story that made me laugh out loud was the part about not remembering anything you made in the class except those apples with syrup and then leaking the syrup all over the seat for the next passenger who would come along! 🙂

  5. Oh how my poor, dear Mother wishes she had been blessed with a child so good that a fake ink blot was the worst thing she did at school 😀 Silly woman (teacher, that is, not my Mother), not having a sense of humour. How dull life must be without one.

  6. that is too funny AD. I can just see her face. Brilliant. thank you also for the reminder about the toy in the cereal box, we were four and it was a battle to see who would claim it.

  7. I did something similar to a teacher with some plastic vomit. I once thought of becoming a teacher, but then I thought what if I had a student like me? I also looked very sweet and innocent, but I was far from that.

  8. Oh dear, AD! I too took Domestic Science at high school for much the same reasons as you did. We had a Miss Mo/Moe/Mow – I can’t remember, lol. And my hair was much the same as your photograph except for the colour. Do you know, she brought a bunch of hairclips to school and every time we went to class I had to present myself in front of her desk to take clips to clip away any hair that MAY stray onto my face and return them to her when the bell rang. 😦

  9. Bold one to this day I bet..I loved your story especially the phrase “an apoplectic fit” I remember the toys in the cereal and the Cracker Jacks though I have not thought of this in years! Thanks!

  10. Thank you for sharing the good story. It reminds me that I had not gotten away without any consequence when I got caught doing things a student should not be doing 🙂

  11. AD …. you terror !
    I’m surprised her pearls didn’t fly off in all directions 🙂

  12. That was really brave of you to wind up the teacher with a plastic inkblot, laying the foundation for future incidents when you must be brave …… like answering this comment Sylvia 😉 xox

  13. HI AD, you look quite mischievous in that pic and your food posts show that you actually learnt a lot 😀

  14. Ah I remember Domestic Science well, it was called Home Economics later on and I think most schools in the UK have done away with it. Which surely contributed to the obesity problem as so many people don’t know how to cook 😦

  15. What a funny story! I remember that I did not exactly shine in my home economics class–It’s been more than 40 years, and I STILL haven’t finished embroidering my calico apron!

  16. I wish I was there AD and a pity she had no sense of humour. I would have laughed myself silly. A lovely photo of you in your younger days hon. Love it! 🙂 *big hugs*

  17. Lovely story. It makes one a bit sad, though. A really born teacher would have encouraged a good laugh at her own expense, told you never to pull a stunt like that again – and in that way have gained more respect and liking out of the pupils than she would have thought possible. I remember a couple of teachers who could join in with the very occasional joke against themselves (one was careful not to overdo it) and they were the ones with the best results of all.

  18. Now I find this hard to believe that you could have done this to a poor old lady,,, I give you top marks for the thought and top marks for going through with it.. and 100% for the great laugh you gave me on a Friday afternoon… so all in all your top of the class as far as I’m concerned…

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