Next week I’ll be participating in a local middle school classroom activity sponsored by Junior Achievement. I’m supposed to explain the role of multiple currencies in international trade, a topic that is of intense interest to 8th graders worldwide. It’s sure to be a riveting session. Still, I like doing these sorts of things as I think any opportunity to get kids pumped up about about math and science (even if it encourages them to go into Economics or Accounting—uck!) is worthwhile.

In preparation, I was given a 5-page form to sign. The form explains some of the more arcane rules of the classroom, including that I need to dress in a way that doesn’t violate the school’s dress code, I shouldn’t attempt to date or otherwise establish personal relationships with the students outside the classroom, and I should refrain from serving them alcohol. I must say that this puts a damper on my plans for the after-class kegger on the playground I was planning, but rules are rules.

As part of signing my agreement to conform to the obvious, I also had to assert that I was not a convicted felon and had never been a sex offender. All of which led me to wonder if anyone who was a sex offender, convicted felon, or potential pre-teen party animal would really have much of a crisis of conscience signing a form claiming they were not. While I can’t claim much insight into the mind of child predators, I somehow suspect that lying isn’t a behavior outside their comfort zone.

Nonetheless, my signed forms have doubtless been filed somewhere so that at my trial, while reciting the litany of my felonious actions, they can whip out the form and add perjury to the list. [insert cold shudder running down spine here]