Of course, we were perfect angels (the kid who got slapped was from my brother's class). We never, ever shot off firecrackers, left scuff marks on the gym floor, fought, shoved each other on the asphalt playground, slid down the sliding boards head first, brought snakes to school, brought toy guns to school, whittled on the desks, threw up, threw food in the cafeteria, played poker the toilets, smoked on the playground, de-pants other boys, stole beer, or anything like those things. Nope, not us. No, most of my grade school years were, like my classmates, spent either as an altar boy, a member of the safety patrol, or diligently and quietly studying (when we weren't doing Corporal Works Of Mercy).