9/22/12
“Maynard, come here.” "What now," he mumbled walking to the front. Mrs. Snavely held a folder out, “Recognize this?”
“Sure, it’s my book report,” Maynard answered. She looked at him over the top of her glasses, “Maynard, you didn't write that.” His face red, nostrils flared, he retorted, “Yes, I did write that. That’s my handwriting.” The teacher sighed, “I have no doubt it is your handwriting. I recognize the sloppy penmanship. When I say ‘You didn't write that’ it refers to the content not the actual scribbling of letters.”
Maynard placed his hand on his heart. “Mrs.
Snavely, you wound me. I read the book. I liked the book. This book spoke to
me. Is the report not good enough?” Mrs. Snavely conceded, “Yes, Maynard,
an excellent report, good insights.” Maynard asked, “What? I’m too stupid to
write that?”
“No, Maynard, not
stupid, you are capable of writing a paper like this.” Maynard relaxed and
smiled, “Then why do you think I didn't?”
Turning to the last page she said, “Maynard,
you are not stupid, but you are careless. I know you didn't write
that because you copied the real author’s name at the end!”
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