Delight in lying.

I had my first substitute teaching shift of my career today. Taught four classes for a friend of mine who teaches at the school. He decided to take the day off and visit a nearby island.

The children kept asking me what happened to him, and I told each grade a different story. Depending on who talks to him when he returns on Thursday, he was: (a) horribly injured in a skiing accident and helicoptered from the island, (b) vanished in a poof of smoke after a science experiment gone terribly wrong, (c) was mangled by a pack of wolves while trying to protect small children, or (d) offered a modeling contract which was effective immediately.

I love lying to students. I feel like it's good for them. They learn to be skeptical and not so naive when I tell them that under my new regime, mistakes are punished with push-ups.