“I expect you to be done with your creative writing assignment by Monday. Make sure to not lose this paper, because it has all the details of this assignment on it.”
Mrs. Weasly began handing out the papers to each student. There was a repeating pattern, as she weaved through the aisles; the student would be handed the paper, they would read it, sigh, roll their eyes, and shove it in their bag. I was in the last row, so I was to get my paper last. The school bell rang, and everyone began to pile out the door. I looked at my watch anxiously as Mrs. Weasly slowly crawled through the aisles. I needed to get going to my volleyball game after this; I didn't have time to wait! I scooped all my books into my bag, and intercepted her before she made it to my desk. She doesn't like me very much; I think she has grown tired of my excuses. She rolled her eyes and handed me my paper. I thanked her, and sprinted for the door. When I got home, I took out the paper and looked over it briefly. It was the basic creative writing assignment, where the main rules were to be creative, and to “have fun”. Yes, it was one of those assignments. I tossed the paper on my bed, and changed for volleyball.
I returned three hours later after winning the game. I scanned my bed with my eyes, but I could not find the paper. I tousled my sheets searching for it, checked my floor to see if it fell, checked under my bed, nothing. I could not find it. I went into the kitchen to ask my mom if she had seen it, but she said she hadn’t. I was so focused trying to figure out where it could possibly be, that I almost tripped over my dog’s bed. I looked down at my dog and spotted something in her fur. It was a white shred of paper. I found many more slobber-covered shreds all over my dog’s bed. My dog had eaten my homework. I knew the basics of the assignment, and I could have done it if I had wanted to, but I was not going to let this perfect excuse to not do the assignment pass me by without taking advantage. So on Monday, I went to school paperless. My teacher was used to this, but this did not prevent her from asking why I had not done my assignment. I told her the truth;
“My dog ate my homework.”
I guess I hadn’t really thought this conversation through. My teacher did not seem amused, but she gave me an extension to the next day. I still wasn't going to give up without a fight, so I took a picture of my dog’s bed, still littered with the paper, and came to class with it the next day. Her response to that was to give me a new copy of the instruction paper, and another extension. I still don't think she believed me. Why did she have to be so smart? I didn't need that paper, I knew the rules, but I was still not going to give up without a fight. I was not going to write the paper. One way or another, I would find a way around it. I couldn't back down now, I couldn't let her win.
I needed to come up with an excuse for why I could not finish my assignment. It had to be fairly realistic, like it could possibly happen, but heroic enough that I looked really good.
I finished my excuse, and it was all ready for my teacher. Not to brag, but I saved the planet. Twice. Long story short, the realism thing went out the window. I was going to make my teacher eat it. I was NOT going to do the assignment, because clearly I had better things to do. If she loved the planet, she would have to back down.
The next day, I came to class with my excuse all planned. Depending on how this played out, maybe I could use the same excuse to get out of a lot of things.
“What? How could you expect me to finish my math test? I was too busy saving your life you big ingrate!”
Apparently my teacher liked my excuse too, because I received an A+ on my creative writing project.
I love cliches. Have you ever thought about this? What if this actually happened? What would happen? Who would believe it? When my sister was little, she used to like to eat paper, and I actually got to go to school and tell my teacher "My little sister ate my homework." It was pretty awesome.