Little Johnny had just returned to school after a long holiday. For two whole months he had been at home, turning the house upside down, asking endless questions, and testing everyone’s patience. His parents were honestly a little relieved when school finally reopened.
Only a few days into the new term, Johnny’s teacher decided she had seen enough. She picked up the phone and called Johnny’s father.
“Mr. Johnson,” she began politely, “I’m calling about your son. Little Johnny has been behaving very badly in class.”
Johnny’s father sighed but stayed quiet while the teacher continued.
“He talks constantly, interrupts the lesson, tells jokes during math, and yesterday he convinced half the class that the earth is flat because his pancake was.”
The father finally spoke.
“Is that all?”
The teacher sounded slightly annoyed. “Well, today he also put a ‘Closed for Repairs’ sign on my chair so I wouldn’t sit down.”
There was a brief silence on the phone.
Then Johnny’s father cleared his throat and said calmly,
“Hang on a minute, miss.”
“Yes?”
“I had Johnny at home with me for two whole months during the holidays,” he said. “Two months!”
“Yes…?”
“And in all that time,” the father continued, “he flooded the bathroom, glued the TV remote to the table, tried to teach the dog algebra, and once asked the neighbor if bald people polish their heads.”
The teacher gasped softly.
“And let me remind you,” the father finished, “I never phoned you once to complain.”
The teacher didn’t know what to say.
Finally she replied, “Mr. Johnson… are you saying I should be more patient?”
There was another pause.
“No,” the father said.
“I’m saying… if you figure out how to control him, please call me immediately.”
