A Band-Aid Solution

I was invited to volunteer for a school's sports' day.
Which I agreed to.
Because classrooms aren't involved with sports' days.
Fields are.
And the staff barbecue was happening later that same afternoon.
So why not?
They asked me to be there for 8:30.
I hung up the phone and then immediately realized that I didn't want to be there for 8:30.
I'd have to get up and shower before then.
And I'd be there for most of the day.
That's a lot of volunteering for anyone.
My generosity only goes as far as it will benefit me and no one else.
So I immediately called back and told them about the blood work I had to get done in the morning.
Which I'd plum forgotten about.
I found myself in my mother's van at 11 the next day.
Tearing up squares of tissue.
Adhering them to my forearm.
Somewhat nervous that I didn't bring enough band-aids with me.
To keep up my miserable lie.
Then I went and had ice cream with the grade fours.

I eventually went to the ball field to watch the grade sevens shotput.
The only interesting ones to watch were those who were maturing faster than their friends.
"Nice try, David."
"Nice try, Laquesha."
"Holy shit, Jeremy!
Good arm, buddy.
Takes the focus off of your acne."
I saw one of the students I would frequently talk to in the hallways.
Because he never seemed to be in class.
Which I liked.
Anyway, he had his jacket zipped up tight to his collar.
And he was wearing a knitted/stocking cap.
So, I said to him, "Gerald, why are you wearing your jacket and toque on a nice day like this?"
To which he replied, "What the fuck's a toque?"