Second Grade, again, maybe?

Well, it's official: Dad is on my list.

After my Mom yanked me out of Catholic school (maybe 'cause they serve wine instead of white milk), I was all ready to get back to Steve Irwin Elementary.

Of course, Dad had to screw it up again.

I think 'cause my Dad is hooked on the new version of "90210" (even though it doesn't have Tori Spelling, which is okay, 'cause Dad watches her on the Oxygen Channel's "Tori and Dean.") he must have gotten confused between reality and the super sexy world of teen TV.

Although I'm only four years old, my Dad dropped me off at Sunnydale High.

Do I look like a slayer?

Well, I figured, if most American teenagers think that the Gettysburg Address is where Lincoln lived, then I should be able to handle it.

My first class is called Home Room, but it didn't look like my home. There weren't any kibble dishes on the floor, potty boxes in the corner, or Dad passed out on a couch. When they called attendance, the teacher asked if I preferred to be called Chicken or did I go by something else? So I told her that my Mom and Dad called me Chick-Chick, Chicken Pot Pie, Pot Pie, Chicken Little, Chicken Orville (but only when I'm in trouble), but if I could be called anything, I want to be called Buck Rogers. He was cool, drove a cool spaceship, and got to be with the chick from "Silver Spoons" so he probably got to ride that cool train that went through the living room. On the downside, he probably had to share with Ricky Schroeder. Or Rick. Or whatever the hell he goes by today.

Then one mean kid said, "sure, we'll call you Buck. Buck Naked! Look everybody, he's not wearin' any pants!" And they all laughed at me, but I just turned the other cheek, like Mr. Brady said you should with bullies.

And then I peed on his backpack.

I had a math class next. Did you know they don't use flashcards in high school? They should 'cause they were gettin' their numbers and their letters all mixed up. Since when is "X" a number? Was I gonna learn anything here?

So off I went to social studies. Only studies I saw were kids checkin' out other kids. The teacher said we were gonna learn about elections, and I said I didn't like that movie 'cause even though Tracey Flick made cupcakes, she was really mean. And what happened to Ferris Beuller? He was soooo cool. The teacher said we had to do a pretend vote but "American Idol" isn't on right now, so I was confused. And we had to do it with paper and pencil. How do you vote without a phone or texting? Geesh, this was weird.

Next, I had English. I decided to skip that class since that's what I speak and I didn't have to learn it. Instead, I took a nap in the teacher's lounge. It has a sofa that my Dad isn't passed out on.

Then it was time for lunch.

White milk! Score!!!!!!!

When I was eatin' my lunch all these cute girls came over and asked if they could pet me and they were real nice so I let them and then I got all tingly like when you climb the rope in gym class.

Ooh, gym class is next. But I didn't get to climb the rope, which I'm really good at 'cause I'm a cat. Instead, we played badminton, which didn't go so well. I was told to sit out after I ate the birdie.

So then it was time for science class. My teacher said we were going to talk about torque. I think I might have misunderstood 'cause when the teacher asked for volunteers to help with an experiment, I raised my paw, went to the front of the class, and horked.

I was sent to the nurse's office where they called my Mom to come get me.

So the next day, my Mom made it clear that Dad was NOT to take me to school but I was to have my brother, Po take me.

Po said that the American Public School System was in tatters and I would be better off in a more progressive learning environment. So he took me to this school called Monty Sorry. We had a teacher who had granola stuck in his beard and wore socks with sandals (like my Dad does when he drives his Volvo). His name was Mr. Teacher, but he said we should call him Buddy. He said we were gonna learn whatever I wanted to learn about, so I told him I wanted to learn about the inner-psyche conflict posed by Freud concerning the Id, Super Id and the Ego through careful analysis of Western Philosophical writing during the Enlightenment.

And where kibble comes from.

We got to take recess breaks whenever we wanted and we didn't need permission to go potty. We got white milk (score, again!) and we got to pick out a story for story time. I chose "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" 'cause caterpillars are the Transformers of the insect world, and that sure makes them cool. Moth than meets the eye!

I sure liked this school but I miss my friends and I want to go back to Steve Irwin Elementary and the Fighting Zookeepers. Those are my homies, and I need to be rollin' with them real soon. So tomorrow I'm gonna walk if I have to, but I'm gonna make it back to Millie.

A journey of a thousand miles begins with one paw. But my school is only a few blocks away, so I should be able to get there no problem.

Millie, I'm coming! Look out second grade, the Chicken is back!