Needed: One Breath Mint

Last week, as I wait in the hall, I see one of my girls, Leslie, walking towards me. She's got fire and mischief in her eyes, and she's walking toward me like she's on a mission from God. Before I know it, she's standing right in front of me, and is staring me down, smart ass grin on her face.

"Miss J, Mr. F says that you seriously need a breath mint."
"What?! That's crazy. He would never say that."
"Well, he did."
"I don't believe you. Mr. F would never say that. That is an extremely unprofessional thing to say, and he would never stoop to that level."
"Well, he did."

"You know what? Let's go ask him. We have time. And if I find out you're lying to me, you are SO getting detention."
"Deal."

30 students and one teacher walk down the hall, excitement brewing in the air.

"Mr. F, Leslie tells me that you said I was in dire need of a breath mint. Did you say that?"
"No! I would never say that."
"That's what I told her."

"NO! He's LYING!" Leslie screams, stomping her feet.

"I also told her I'd give her detention if I found out she was lying to me."
"I think that's a great idea."

"This is SO UNFAIR! He's LYING!" A whole crowd gathers, looks curiously.

Mr. F grins at me, then looks calmly at Leslie and smiles.
"Leslie," he says, "you've just been punked."

High five. And done.
And that's how you get the respect of smart ass 8th graders.