Point

The professor has this uncanny ability to embarass me, just by being his normal self. I should accept this, and not let his actions worry me, and yet every time it happens, I want to shout, "He's not mine! I will not claim him!"
Yesterday was one such day.
About 2 hours before church he gets the call. No teacher for one of the youth Sunday School class. As is Mike's calling, he steps up and prepares the lesson. No big deal, although he did try to pawn it off on me. Yeah right, I say, I have enough to do.
So church comes and off to class everyone scampers as soon as the last note is sung for our dismissal hymn.
I had many copies to make and am hanging out in the library, I know, missing my own SS lesson! What an example.
In walks the professor.
"Is it time to change already?" Asks the librarian.
"No, I left", he replies.
"Ha ha ha," I nervously laugh, "Did your lesson go short?"
"No, I left, they were out of control and I left," he answers.
Oh crap, I think. Are you kidding me? All of the worst case scenarios run through my head.
Parents angry, kids upset, bishop throwing us out of church, telling us never to come back.
The professor doesn't want to talk about it. I make a quick exit and head to RS, curious as all get out as to what happened. Embarassed that the librarian heard.
On the drive home I pester him. What did you SAY?! What did you DO?!

Now I must remind you that his profession is TEACHING. He spent two years on a reservation middle school teaching science to gangbangers! He's not a wuss, and can handle pretty much anything in a classroom.

Apparently he pulled out all his tricks. And nothing doing. So he wanted to prove a point. He slowly packed up his bags, told them not to disturb the other classes, and left.
Okay, I say. It's not as terrible as I suspected. Just an attention getter. They were only in there by themselves for 5 minutes. He stood outside the door. No big deal.

And then the phone calls start.

A parent wanting to know what he can do to help.
One of the kids apologizing.
Cookies and a written apology from another.

Someone asks us about it at a friends house for dinner. This is, apparently, big news. It seems the whole ward knows. By the next morning, the story is retold to me, although it's a female teacher and she was crying.

And I'm mortified.