Well, if I find out this has personally identified me to anyone, I'm nuking this comment the fuck from orbit. Anyhow...

When I was but a young first-grader in a new school, I found myself having to deal with the strict regimentation of a traditional educational institute. Coming from a Montessori school, this was hard. The different subjects completely isolated from one another, the minute-splitting schedules, the having to ask for a bathroom break... You get my drift. It was practically a culture shock.

One thing I would have particular problems with was the disciplinarian nature. You see, I was a fidgety child. And my mind wondered easily. And I would be stuck in a fantasy world of vibrant daydreams while the lessons droned on as mere background noise. And my peepee would get inexplicably hard.

Yeah...

Being young, I didn't know what it was that made my corduroys into a funky-shaped circus tent. I just knew it kinda embarrassed me. Not aware of how else I could cope, I would do the only thing that seemed logical to my young mind: surreptitiously prod my tiny little youngin' hard-on until the stubborn bastard went down.

For the most part, that worked out fine. Until one day, my teacher told the class to be quite, behave, and fold our hands and put them in our laps. We attempted to keep quiescent while our teacher checked to make sure we were compliant. But I had bigger fish to fry. Now, I mentally scolded my penis, was not the time.

"SoandSo is following the rules," she noted. "SoandSo isn't. And SoandSo. And SoandSo, too."

Par for the course, until... "And Narwheagle is sitting there smashing his privates."

The entire class burst into laughter. I can't remember if I cried, but my cheeks definitely turned red enough to qualify me as a card-carrying member of the Communist party. To this day, I can't recall the incident without cringing.