Venetian Blinds

When I was just a very young boy About six or maybe seven years old I tortured my teacher in the classroom By never doing what I was told. They didn’t have any classification At the time to put me in a box It’s not so much that I hated to be there I’m sure I was viewed as a young paradox One day I remember oh so well I probably drove her to an early drink I got up from my desk and ran down the aisles What was she to do? What was she to think? She ordered me back to my seat right away I’d already started. There was no way to stop I ran up one aisle and back down another My energy level just wouldn’t drop And then I saw them, the fait accompli The strings hanging down from the top of the blinds They had to be pulled. I couldn’t resist. My mother was called for a meeting of minds Please come to school as soon as you can Robby- yes that was my name when I was a boy Is running up and down the aisles Pulling Up the Venetian blinds as if his own toy I don’t remember what happened next My mother had her favorite wooden spoon I doubt that she waited for Dad to get home I was probably spanked that afternoon. Even to this day I find it hard to sit still My best thinking happens when I pace back and forth If you ever find yourself on the phone talking to me I’ll first pace to the south and then to the north.