teachers and tums

Ms. Locker was a fifth grade teacher at my school. She was old enough to be my grandmother. The top drawer of her desk contained two things: a tube of bright pink lipstick and a jar of Tums, which she'd take a handful of every half hour. A fairly mild-tempered teacher, she would rarely yell but had a punishment much worse (and far more embarrassing) than raising her voice at you in front of the class. If she reached into her top drawer and didn't pull out her container of Tums, it meant trouble. Lecturing all the while, she'd lather her lips with lipstick (in a shade complimentary to her nail polish) and slowly walk towards you slightly limping because of her bad hip. Grabbing your face in her hands, she'd bend down and apply what she affectionately called a "kissy-poo smashy-face," directly on your cheek. Luckily I never fell prey to such a kiss, but I can still picture the faces of those who did. And, I am most certain their souls still bear emotional scars of such smooches.