3 years ago500+ Views
If you've ever been a kid, chances are you've been sent to the principal's office for one reason or another. Let's face it - kids get in trouble! Aside from making messes and loud sounds, it's what we do best!
I want to do a bi-monthly free-for-all called "COOL STORY, BRO!" where we all share ridiculous memories we have, from when we wound up in the ER after hurting ourselves a really stupid way to exchanging the weird lies our parents told us as children - that we believed!

Today's big question -

What got YOU sent to the principal's office?

Well, let's say getting called to the Principals office in the middle of a class sucks. Especially when they announce it over the speaker system so ALL the school gets to hear your name echoing impending Doom. >_> *sigh* I had a hunch on what this was about, but trying to stay optimistic I went on my way to the office with my handy-dandy hall pass.
Waiting in the office, getting stared at. Yeah buddy, lots of fun there! -___-
Finally get in to see the principal and the whole story unwinds before me. Apparently 'someone' told the teacher that I had stolen a bunch of School supplies from the Art room and was using said 'supplies' get High.
Yes.... getting high on school supplies. Like, as in sniffing stuff?
Yes, because we all know just how wonderful a fresh Science book smells. Nothing gives me a 'rise' more than indulging in sharpies, laminate, glue, pastes, paints and other various supplies at random. >_____<
Okay so let me explain. We had this HUGE project due for History. The kind where we had to work in a group of four, draw up maps and battle plans and yes even write a disgustingly long report about our pre-war plan. But guess what? They wouldn't give us any damn supplies to do the project! I don't know about some of you but in my house we didn't have all this junk just 'laying' around. We pleaded many times we needed supplies but they said we needed to use home resources. SO... what did we do? We decided to sneak some supplies from the art room so we could do our project!! Screw that. >:D We were going to return them after we finished; we aren't bad-intention thieves after all.
Uh.... I don't know Mrs Principal, probably because I'm trying to graduate???
And why am I the only one in the office? Where are the rest of the so-called bandits?
So anyway... I got a Friday School along with the rest of my accomplices. [After much arguing over who took what, yeesh.] They called my parents, but luckily they chose to call my Dad and not my Mom.
My Dad didn't agree with the Principal at all, and even told me so. But what was done, was done and we decided it was better not to dump the stupid situation on my mom. [*High five Dad*] So Yeah, school huh? Pshhh, bunch of sharpie hogging nutjobs. And whatever happened to the kid that "told" on us? Well... that's a mystery. I would have loved to get a-hold of them though; so they could explain this mysterious huffing hobby I supposedly had.

So now it's your turn!

Comment below with the craziest reason you were ever sent to the principal's office.

(Extra points if you got detention.)


Just....LoL @danidee
That's so lame! Art supplies are really expensive, and they can't really expect every kid to be able to afford to buy a bunch of them, especially enough to make a good project. One thing I really appreciated about the art school I attended is they let us rent art supplies, cameras, and the like depending on what kind of project we were working on. We checked them out like library books and used our student IDs. I feel like all schools should treat art supplies the same way!
@Danse lol criminal masterminds gotta start somewhere XD
This was early in middle school for me. I did end up in the office... a LOT actually. >_> But ya know, ahaha. Guess the art supplies raid was my debut. :P @shannonl5
I feel like I should have been sent to the office a bunch of times but never was... I was the worst truant. I was skipping school at age nine (to go to the art museum in the city- what a rebel). I guess I was a low priority though