I plead the fifth

Middle school, the seventh grade to be exact, is where I learned my father had little authority beyond me (even that was short lived). Fourth period music class was the scene of the showdown between myself and Mr. Wilson. Yes, the same Mr. Wilson that played Santa Claus in the local television ads and numerous plays. He actually did look like Santa Clause from his white hair and beard down to his rotund stature. I always wanted to ask why Santa never seemed to visit our mobile home park. The assignment was simple, listen to Beethoven's 5th Symphony, no really listen (as in more than once) and learn more about it and Beethoven - it was laid out in our textbook. Like any good seventh grader, I had an attitude. I explained the assignment (mostly complaining) to dad as we ate pizza and watched a horror flick. I said the assignment was stupid and dad readily agreed. Furthermore, he told me to not do it if I did not feel like it. He posed the rhetorical question - why should we do things we don't want to? I smiled as the discussion ended, looking at dad like he was a genius. It was all so simple, just refuse to do it. I closed the music book and forgot all about it, proud of myself and the solution. Fast forward to fourth period on Monday and me proudly announcing the results of my conversation with Dad to Mr. Wilson and the class. An uncomfortable discussion in the hallway with the assistant principal followed as my classmates watched in awe. It is to my credit that I quickly realized the error of my ways and learned the hard lesson that Dad had no power - I had to be careful listening to him. I retreated with Mr. Wilson, licked my wounds and worked hard to complete the assignment that night. It was submitted the following day with little fanfare and a smugness from Mr. Wilson that I never forgot. He gave me an A for the work before bumping it down to a B for the commotion and being a day late. I never told Dad about the events at school. It was another lesson that he never asked. Likewise, I never told Mom as it would have provided more ammunition against him when he picked me up every other weekend.