A Royal Holiday
By Emery C. Walters
After everyone else had left the cafeteria, Sid sat down at the teacher’s table and finished off the principal’s piece of pumpkin pie. Not the part he’d barely touched with his fork, but everything else. The principal—on principle, ha ha, always took some of everything and then only briefly, if at all, tasted it. In short, he wasted it. Sid was aghast at how much he, and the other teachers, left on their plates. The kids were just as bad, but that was to be expected. You could tell which kids had the free lunch and who bought because they could by how much wasted food was left on the plate, or the table, or the floor. He himself should have gotten the free lunch, but his step-father wouldn’t stoop to ‘charity.’
Thus he and his siblings always brought
