Snarting in the Classroom

One week from right now, this very moment, I shall be sitting on my sofa, sipping a Cosmo, quietly celebrating the end of my two-year run at ***r *****y High School (name hidden to protect the...well, you know).

If I am forever remembered as a good or bad teacher doesn't really matter to me as I move on to the next adventure...and today, I realized that I don't really mind if I'm known in this community forever as the teacher who passed gas in class. Though I suppose it's lucky that no one in my Choir of Angels (a play on their real name, and a completely sarcastic one, at that, as there is nothing remotely angelic about this group) heard me snart in class today.

What is a snart? According to Colonel Cooper (aka Daddy), a snart is what you call it when you sneeze so hard it pushes a fart out.

And that is exactly what happened at the beginning of fourth period today, to Yours Truly. I was sitting at my desk as my sweet little singers came screaming into the room (they have two volume settings: loud and rattle-your-eardrums-loud). I felt the sneeze coming on, and braced myself. It was a rather violent sneeze, and to my dismay, it was accompanied by a rather forceful expulsion of flatulence--enough that the seat cushion on my desk chair actually tremored.

Fortunately, the cushion muffled the sound--my kids are loud and self-centered enough that I could start sobbing hysterically and they wouldn't notice for a while--so I was able to pretend it hadn't happened...that is, until the unfortunate aftermath reared its ugly head.

Oy vey...the smell was outrageous.

I sat there in utter mortification, trying to come up with a plan of action should anyone venture close enough to my desk to get a snootful of dirty air. Maybe one of the boys was standing near enough that I could blame it on him--everyone knows that teenaged boys fart for the sport of it, right? Or maybe I could surreptitiously fan the air with my gradebook until it dispersed.

The good news is that the smell went away on its own relatively quickly, and noone came near enough my desk to experience it, anyway.

The even better news is that I don't care if I go down in the annals of history at this school as the teacher who snarted in the classroom. It just doesn't matter anymore.