“Mr. Potts warned me I gotta do better or I’m in big trouble, but this is impossible!”

Life seemed dull and unexciting, and Fishel Friedman had had enough. All he would do was go to school, do homework, and go to bed, and the next day, it was school-homework-bed all over again. And the things they taught you in school! Times tables and grammar and spelling — all totally unnecessary in Fishel’s view. Who needed to know all that stuff? Fishel felt that how he spelled words — according to how they sounded — was way better than how the dictionary spelled them.

Fishel daydreamed for a while about what school would be like if he were in charge. Well, the rebbi was alright, he thought. Fishel would leave the mornings mostly unchanged, although he’d redo the playground to make recess more exciting. He’d put in a roller coaster and a merry-go-round. He’d bring in animals for rides: ponies, camels, and an elephant.

The afternoon would be spent mostly out on the playground, of course….

Suddenly, Fishel’s fabulous fantasy was interrupted.

“Fishel! Where are you? Have you done your homework yet?”

Uh oh. It was Mr. Friedman.

“Coming!” Fishel called.

Faivish was already sitting, hunched and miserable, over a particularly complicated math problem.

“Mr. Potts warned me I gotta do better or I’m in big trouble, but this is impossible!”