The Time I was Lunch Lady for a Week

5 06 2009

lunch lady

(Picture from

I just read over on my friend Berta’s blog (I still call her “Sister Boice”) that her husband is no longer going to be the assistant principal at my alma mater.

In my comment, I said, “How can it even be MHS without Mr. Boice?” To illustrate this point (and in his honor), I’m going to relate the one time (I’m pretty sure it was only once) I got called into his office.

I was (and I think I am not exaggerating when I say this) a stellar student. I did, however, occasionally park in the teachers’ (cough, cough) parking spaces. You see, back then I didn’t have nearly as much respect for those fine people who choose to educate the populace as I do now. Back then, I simply thought, “Whatever. They’ve got legs, too. Let them walk.”

I need not point out to you, dear reader, that even though I was a stellar student, I was still a teenager. And, as such, sometimes engaged in some of those disrespectful attitudes that become prevalent when the hormones are high and the gray matter gets (momentarily) overpowered.

There are a few reasons why the choice to park in the teachers’ parking spaces was unwise:

  1. They were for the grossly underpaid teachers. The least we can do is give them a closer parking space, right? How’s that for a job perk!
  2. Mr. Boice was in my ward, and he also happened to like Volkswagens. I drove a Volkswagen (after my three older brothers). Thus, he knew my car on sight. There was no mystique like a, say, red Ford Escort would have provided. There were at least 12 people with red Ford Escorts at my high school. Did I really think he wouldn’t know who the white GTI belonged to? Duh. (Picture from
  3. I didn’t have my kids back then to blame my lateness on. Why on earth was I late for school?

After multiple infractions, I got called in. How embarrassing. Like I said, he was in my ward. His wife was my Laurel advisor, and he had beaten me quite soundly at badminton during the last ward picnic.

The conversation went something like this:

“Wendy, I need you to take care of these parking tickets.”

“But I don’t have the money!” (All, I don’t know, $25 of it. And I also had a job, but apparently didn’t want to spend my own money on something as trivial as parking tickets.)

“Talk to your parents.”

[With large, startled eyes.] “Um, no. That’s not a good idea.” (Seriously, though–like they would have blinked an eye after all the stuff Sam pulled.)

“We’ve got to get these taken care of.”

“Is there anything else I can do?” [Thinking, frantically thinking.] “I’ve seen some people serving lunch. Can I do that?”

Mr. Boice looked at me for about three seconds. Three l-o-n-g seconds. “Are you sure?”

At that point, I was ready to sell my soul for my parents to remain blissfully ignorant of my parking tickets. “Yes.” I said. “Yes, it will be fun.”

So I got to serve lunch (with a smile!) for a week. It actually wasn’t all that bad. No where near the horror fessing up about those tickets would have been. [Insert Adam Sandler’s Sloppy Joe song right here. “Navybeansnavybeansnavybeans!”]

Mr. Boice, I don’t know what’s going on in that school district over there since I’m no longer in the same state, but I want you to know you were a great principal. As your wife said, “You leave large shoes to fill.”




16 responses

5 06 2009

Dear Wendy, I’m so surpised that our only daughter who never got into trouble, finally fesses up to parking tickets of all things.Your brothers will never let you live this down. Good thing you can confess on your blog. Love, Mom

5 06 2009

So funny. I remember confessing once about a speeding ticket. It felt as if I were confessing a convenient store robbing. My Dad reacted about the same. It is probably good you did not confess, despite Sam the safety net.

5 06 2009

I still haven’t told my parents about some of my high school escapades! Not that they’d care now but it’s been 15 years why bother now.

5 06 2009

By-the-way, love the “action figure”.

5 06 2009

That’s a funny story Wendy, because when Ty moved to Poky, he came to the high school, took the GTi and left the Ranger (which he conveniently parked in the teacher’s parking). Needless to say, I got a ticket. I saw Bob in the hallway a few days later and he said “Archibald, was that your pick-up in the teacher’s parking the other day?” To which I had to respond yes. Then I told him what happened and all he said was “Oh, forget about the ticket then.” But I think the only reason he let me off because he ate a Taco Time like 3 times a week.

5 06 2009

I hung out with you in High School, and I still don’t believe this story….I got called in to talk with Bob as well, over none other than parking in student parking….seriously, what would he have done without harrassing the best students in the school?

6 06 2009

SAFETY NET!!! Are you serious? I’ve been demoted from loving older brother to safety net?

6 06 2009
El Jefe

If nothing else, Wanda, I appreciate that you are citing your sources (this comment comes, most appropriately, just a few days after plowing through 100s of research projects which neglected to do that very thing. Ugh).

Funny story.

Love, El Jefe

P.S., Sam: I was the loving older brother.

6 06 2009

That’s a great story Wendy. Mike is right-I did park in the Teacher’s parking. Every day, in fact. My truck was nice enough that it didn’t need to be parked next to all the crappy Ford Escorts and Pontiac Grand Ams.

I can’t believe you had to do lunch duty for a week. I got out of my ~100 tickets for 2 combo burritos at TacoTime.

Hope your thumbs are strengthening up!

6 06 2009

I had no idea you had such a rebellious streak. I would have died if I had gotten called down to the office. I was a little bit scared of Mr. Boice which probably means he was a very effective assistant Principal. I am sad that he won’t still be there to strike fear in the hearts of those who are to come.

6 06 2009

Shocked – They let you be salutatorian with parking tickets? I thank Mr. Boice for teaching me how to drive with my knee in driver’s ed. (You know, so you can use both hands to eat) Definitely in my top five most used life skills that I learned in high school.

7 06 2009
El Jefe

But, Greg, did he teach you how to drive with your knee while pulling an e-brake in an ice-slick Kmart parking lot? Or are those two separate skills?

I think the reason Wendy was Salutatorian rather than Valedictorian was because of the parking infraction. That’ll teach you, Wendy!


7 06 2009

I just reeeaaaaally hope you got to dress just like the action figure shown above.

I love this post for two reasons:
a) it is a funny story.
b) your brothers have left some pretty funny comments and I feel like we are sitting in your parents home over some Belgian Waffles or Taco Salad (take your pick) listening to the round of stories, harassments, and what-not.

8 06 2009

Thanks for the laugh. I am amazed, but not really considering the fact that you are a speed demon and get tickets that way. In fact, I think it represents the whole side of you that most people don’t see…the deep dark disdain for lesser laws like parking spaces and speed limits! 😉
And I love all the family comments that come in. Strange to know you and never have met your brothers, yet their comments are just like I would have imagined!

8 06 2009
Mrs. Olsen

Who would have thought that being a lunch lady would finally pull your family out of the dark (on your blog).

I’m sad I missed Wendy as lunchlady. Must have been after ’93.

24 06 2009

Where have I been?? Hilarious. I would like to 2nd your high opinion of yourself, stellar student! I can’t believe you parked in the teacher’s parking spot – I thought you were perfect. But now we know you yell at primary kids and tell them that life isn’t fair AND you break the law. Seriously though, could you take Mr. Boice seriously, he is a comedian.
AND I think Ty should go back to MHS and do 4 wks of cafeteria duty to make up for his Burrito Bribery.
I didn’t know Bob was leaving MHS – future bobcats have no idea what they’ll be missing.

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