Happy Sunday, freaders! I’m still laid up on the couch and sick as a dog, but I’ve decided to use this sickness for good. Instead of whining all day (like I did yesterday), I’m watching Harry Potter and working on my Christmas cards. Awesome, no?

A few weeks back, I posted about a certain prank my friends and I played on our boss. And, during the weekends from now on, I’d like to share a story or two about my so-called ‘wild’ days. (Because they were so scandalous, ha!)

This week’s story was suggested by my BFF Eli. Because we were totally rebels.

This shouldn’t surprise anyone, but I was a goody two-shoes in high school. I didn’t like to break the rules, so I didn’t. Ever. (I had a pretty exciting existence in high school, as I’m sure you can tell. But I was OK with it.)

When the spring of my senior year rolled around, my BFFs (Katie and Eli) and I decided we wanted to perform a senior prank. (They were every bit as good as me, if not more so.)

In years past, crickets were let loose in the school. The exterior of the building was spray-painted with obscene phrases and crude drawings. Locks were superglued shut. Handicapped signs were painted on every teacher parking spot outside of the school. (That was one of my favorites.) A cow was led up the stairs of the annex building and left to roam one , and since cows (apparently) can’t walk down stairs… yeah.

We wanted to do a prank that would better the school, and one day at lunch, we realized what would be perfect.

Students are allowed to eat outside of the cafeteria if the weather is nice, either picnic-style on the grass or at old picnic tables. We sat outside nearly every day, enjoying the spring sunshine and the feeling that we were not longer trapped inside the building. The picnic tables had seen their fair share of weather, and their old boards were worn and decorated with student doodles. How wonderful would it be to bring some color to lunchtime?

It was perfect, and we were in.

Katie’s dad bought the paint for us — blue, pink and yellow. My mother laughed and immediately approved. We didn’t tell Eli’s parents. And then we were ready to go one spring night, just days before graduation.

We drove up to the school, sneaking around to the backside where the tables were located. Quickly, we each took a bucket of paint and brushes to decorate.

Within minutes, the tables were more spunky and colorful than they had been in years. We continued our artwork, adding splatter paint and some hand prints for fun.

A few minutes later, we heard sirens.

We dropped everything and ran back to the car only to realize that a cop car was blocking us in. We were covered in paint, and guilty was written across our faces.

A janitor, who was standing next to the officer, had been inside the school and  called the cops on us. He insisted he would not press charges because he saw us around school and knew we were good kids. However, it would be reported to the principal, and after the cop slapped handcuffs on Eli and shoved him into the backseat of the cop car, we were let go with a warning and a date with destiny the next morning.

I got home and broke the news to my mom. She wasn’t upset, and she held me as I wept myself to sleep that night.

The next morning came too soon, and the three of us made the walk of shame into the main office before the late bell rang. We were three of the only seniors in the school — seniors are released about a week earlier than other students — and after my volleyball coach poked his head into the office to laugh at us, we were called into the principal’s office.

We were so nervous. None of us were bad students or kids — we had NEVER been to the principal’s office, and since we were so involved in our school, the principal knew who we were. I remember my hands shaking as we walked into her office.

Dr. W, the principal, was stern, but lenient on us. She told us we would have to repaint the tables for the school and that we might not get to walk at graduation — she was saving that judgment for later, but it was very clear to the three of us that she got a laugh or two out of our prank.

For the next three days, we spent hours at the school repainting our works of art. Many times, students came up to us to ask why we were repainting them because they were so fun with the multicolored paints. We would just shrug.

Once the repainting was complete, we were told we would be able to walk at graduation. On graduation day, we learned we could all wear our National Honor Society hoods, too.

That day, we were thanked in Dr. W’s graduation speech for our “latest community service project.”

My grandmother still smiles about that to this day, and whenever we talk about high school, we still laugh because who would have thought that we would get caught completing our harmless senior prank?

If nothing else, it makes for a good story.