We love you Conrad, oh yes we doooo. . .

Something very strange happened during my sixth period today. This class is admittedly very social, but for some reason nearly all of the boys were in their desks and working when the bell rang, and large chunks of girls filtered in giggling and squealing and being altogether too hormonal all at once. More than was strictly necessary at least.

Students were working well enough on their bellwork, though, until I made the mistake of saying the word "library". This was about the point when twenty-odd girls all squealed like mad. Deafeningly so.

Me: "Ok, what is going on?!"

Girls (in unison): "REALLY HOTT DISNEY STAR IS HERE!"

Me: ". . . who?"

Girls (in unison): "REALLY HOTT DISNEY STAR IS IN OUR LIBRARY RIGHT NOW! CAN WE PLEASE GO AND SEE HIM?!"

Me: (unsympathetically): "No."

This precipitated a deluge of bribes and pleads, including promises of chocolate (tempting), money (illegal?), 'but he's my future husband!' claims (unlikely - he's probably closer to my age than theirs!), and (my favorite) - the 'But I'll DIE if I don't go!' (I'd like to see it.)

To make things worse for these poor hormonally charged wee-women, I showed no mercy. I closed the blinds so that they could not see out of the windows. I drew a "picture" on the board of said Disney star so that they could have "no excuse" for wanting to go, since he was already here. I would occasionally look out of the blinds and say "Oh look I think I see- oops. Not him."

So while they didn't get as much work done as they perhaps should have. . . I had all kinds of fun toying with them.

Is that wrong?