When I was in grade school (not grad school...I assure you, this story would have a different ending, if this happened in grad school). I loved Mrs. M's art class the best. We'd march into her classroom & proceed to make the biggest mess. She called it creativity & I thought she was so cool for calling it that. She loved to see us create. We'd paint & make clay blobs & she thought it was all good for our souls.

Everyone loved that class...everyone except Scott M. He claimed that it was all stupid...then would proceed to eat paste. I'm not kidding, I saw him do it. He saw me see him slip his chubby, bully fingers covered with white goop, into his hateful mouth & instead of being embarrassed, he resorted to meanness. He stomped over to me & kicked me in my shin. My first thought wasn't outrage or anger...it was self preservation & pride. He wasn't going to see me cry! That's what he wanted. That would have made his stupid-little-boy heart happy & I didn't want that. I bent down & rubbed my shin. I remember the details to this day. I was wearing a blue dress with yellow tights (fashion sense be damned). I had slashes of red & white paint on my tights from dramatically running out of paper & continuing my masterpiece on my legs.

When he didn't see tears, he got even more upset. He called me names. I still didn't cry. Then he came up with one that hit the mark. He called me Dr. Jekyll (my initials were DJ...so stinking cleaver of the kid). Don't ask me why this got to me, maybe I thought he was calling me an ugly monster & my little girl self didn't want to be seen that way. Whatever the reason it got to me, it did & he knew it. He laughed & called me that again, his toadies called me that & collapsed in fits of laughter.

I've never been a tattle tale...so going to Mrs. M...was never an option. This was my battle & she couldn't fix it for me. I endured this treatment for days. The laughing, the pointing, the crying in the girl's room. My friends said that he was a jerk. Don't sweat it, they said...but I couldn't let a paste eater win.

I thought about it all until a light bulb went off in my head...aha...I've got just the thing to call him. It's creative & clever & artfully constructed...yes...he'd hate it & his friends would laugh...perfect.

His full name was Scott Mikus...from that day until he & his family moved away in the 8th grade...he was forever known as Snot Mucus.

I was so proud of myself.