I remember junior high at Tekamah-Herman.
Life science with Mr. TeSelle.
It was the kind of class every farm kid secretly loved.
Not because we were good students… but because it felt like controlled chaos.
One day we got to prick our own fingers with lancets.
Draw actual blood. Our blood.
Which, if you’re a kid who’s already had your fair share of cuts and scrapes, feels less like science and more like… “finally, something I’m qualified for.”
We squeezed out a drop and put it on a slide.
Then came the real “science” part.
We mixed it with these little drops of mystery liquids… Anti-A, Anti-B, something else that sounded important…
And then we stared into microscopes looking for clumps.
Because apparently, if your blood starts clumping together… that’s good.
That means something.
That means you’re a type A, or B, or AB, or O… and either positive or negative depending on whether it decides to behave or not.
At that age, it mostly felt like:
“If it looks weird, that’s your answer.”
I remember figuring out I was A+.
I told Mr. TeSelle that was probably going to be my grade in the class.
He didn’t laugh.
But I did end up with an A, so I stand by it.
For all the fun we had, though…
He had one rule he did not mess around with.
No gum.
Ever.
Sounds simple enough.
Except there’s always one person who thinks they’re smarter than the rule.
The day I learned what happened if you got caught…
it was a girl named Laura.
He called her up to his desk.
Which wasn’t really a desk.
It was a full lab station… with a chair next to it like it was waiting for something bad to happen.
Then he reached underneath and pulled out a jar.
Not a normal jar.
A wide-mouthed, almost cookie-sized glass jar.
Filled with gum.
ABC gum.
Already Been Chewed.
You could tell.
Different colors. Different shapes.
Some of it didn’t even look like gum anymore.
The room went quiet.
He told her to take her gum out… and put it in the jar.
Then he told her to pick a piece…
and chew it for the rest of class.
I felt my stomach drop.
I remember going pale… like I was the one being punished.
I honestly thought she might pass out.
But she didn’t.
She reached in.
Grabbed a piece.
And walked back to her desk.
Sat down.
And started chewing.
Or at least… that’s what it looked like.
To this day, I still don’t know if she actually chewed it…
or pulled off the greatest fake-out of all time.
Because there’s no way…
there’s just no way.
If this resonated with you, you’re not alone.
