a quality teacher

I have the pleasure of knowing my 13 year old daughter is being taught seventh grade science by a quality teacher. I grew up one block away from him. We went to school and graduated together. We were two peas on a small pod of close friends growing up. He was class president… one of those years in high school. I can’t remember which one; it’s been a while. He was, and still is, a golden boy with blonde hair and a dark tan. When we were kids we went to the same pool and I had to endure girls going gaga over him. Now that were adults, the same is true. But this year he’s teaching my oldest daughter science. Before this school year she knew him well. She knew him as one of her dad’s cigar smoking, gambling, buddies. Even during backyard beer drinking I told her to call him by his last name. Mr. Romstopke until she was past his grade. I follow suit. So one morning, I was leaving for work and my daughter was stumbling about and rubbing the sleepy out of her eyes. I got her attention and looked her straight in the eyes and said “I want you to give Mr. Romstopke a message”
“What’s that?”
“Tell him I said he’s a mother fucker and he’s smelled like shit ever since the day I met him.”
She sarcastically replied “Sure if you don’t mind me getting suspended.”
After work I jokingly asked her if she gave Mr. Romstopke the message. She said she had in fact given him the message and he had a message for me.
“Mr. Romstopke wants me to tell you to suck a fart out of his asshole.”