Keep Your Friends Close...

In middle school and high school, whenever my best bud, Tiffany, would feel blue - I knew there was one way to always cheer her up - by doing this:

 It's a bit hard to see - but my hair is in dog-eared pigtails.  I don't really see the humor - but she thinks it's hysterical.  Then again, she's always been laughing with me/at me since we were a mere two years old. 

And now  - a typical Holly/Tiffany story from our youth:  In seventh grade we decided we were going to sign up for choir (mainly because neither of us could play an instrument).  For some reason - the bottom-heavy choral teacher took an immediate dislike to Tiffany.  And it wasn't subtle.  This was very apparent when, at the close of a song and the announcement of the next, EVERYONE in class got up to get the next sheet music and replace their "Wind Beneath My Wings" packets.

"TIFFANY!!! I DID NOT TELL YOU TO GET OUT OF YOUR SEAT!" Ms. Cobb yelled at the top of her lungs, which, for a singer, was quite loud.  The rest of us, some half way across the room, stopped like creatures in a hunt.  Tiffany, eyes wide and hovering two feet above her red laquer seat, looked around in disbelief. 

"B-b-but - everyone is up-" Ms. Cobb cut her off with a warrior cry that reverberated through the room and rattled the ceiling, showering us with ancient asbestos.

"THAT'S IT! YOU HAVE DETENTION! LUNCHTIME! HERE!" 

I had never eaten lunch without Tiffany.  We were Siamese-twin like - if not closer.  So, permanent record be damned - I was determined to get Detention as well.

Pulling a piece of Hubba Bubba from the depths of my acid washed jeans, I popped the sickly sweet gum into my mouth en route to the table where the sheet music was lined up in anal-retentive rows.  Chewing loudly, I grabbed two sheets of music, delivered one to my still in shock bud and then plopped back down into my seat.  

At the end of every line - I popped my gum. 

Ms. Cobb stared at me in horror - but refused to acknowledge that what I was doing was wrong.  Having gum in school was the ultimate in rule-breaking - popping gum in school was a flagrant disregard for the consequences of the ulitimate rule-breaking.  And yet - I popped on.  I snapped, chewed and chomped, loudly and proudly - but still - no detention. 

Frustrated, I glanced down at my watch. The bell would ring any moment and still - no detention. 

Pushing the pink wad to tip of my tongue I prepared for the ultimate in disrespect - a huge bubble - an insult wrapped in a pretty pink package. 

I blew, and I blew, and I formed the most perfect bubble that has ever been blown in the history of bubble-blowing.  Okay - so maybe I'm being a litthe cocky, but still, it was a darn big bubble.  Just as the bell rang to dismiss class, the bubble popped - all over my face.  Ms. Cobb waddled out, refusing to issue a just punishment for my ill-tolerable bubbling ways. 

"Hey, you tried," said Tiffany as she watched me pick bits of gum out of my eyebrows and bangs. 

Later, at the end of the school year, Ms. Cobb surprised us by swooping down on Tiffany and I and wedging us between each one of her massive mammaries.  Hugging us as tears streamed down her hardened face, she yelled "I AM GOING TO MISS YOU GIRLS SOOO MUCH!"

I couldn't help but wish, as we stood, helplessly being hugged and manhandled by a large rhinocerous-like teacher, that I had another piece of gum to wedge up her nose and therefore guarantee our relase and simultaneously avoiding detention - again.