Sunday, October 10, 2010

The Dog Ate My Homework

By Lisabet Sarai

(Warning: this post is in dubious taste.)

I spend part of my time teaching undergraduates. Thus, as you imagine, I am very familiar with excuses.

“Why didn't you turn in your project?” I ask.

“I don't have a printer at home, so I couldn't print it.”

“My friend said that he'd submit it for me, but he forgot.”

“I was sick yesterday so I couldn't finish.” (Never mind that the class had a full four weeks to complete this assignment.)

“My grandmother had an accident and I had to take care of her.”

“My bus broke down.”

I am actually rather disappointed by my students' apparent lack of creativity. So far no one has claimed that he was abducted by aliens, or that his house burned down along with his homework, or that his girlfriend kept him tied up all weekend so he couldn't study. Hardly any of the excuses I've heard are sufficiently entertaining to support a blog post. So I guess I'll have to make some up.

Scenario 1:

Jack comes home from work early. “Lila!” he calls. “I'm home, honey! Where are you, babe?” He hears giggles coming from the master bedroom. When he enters, he discovers his wife naked, perched on the end of the bed, with Dan, the twenty-five year old son of their next door neighbor, crouching between her thighs.

“Hi, darling,” she says, closing her legs so fast that she almost takes off Dan's ears.

“Hello, Mr. Haynes.” Dan is already on his feet.

Jack struggles to keep his voice calm. “What's going on here, Lila?”

Lila looks embarrassed. “Well, you know Dan's in his second year of medical school. He has an anatomy exam tomorrow – I was just helping him study.”


Scenario 2:

Professor Darwin falls asleep at his computer. His devoted wife brings him some tea. She knocks on the door of his office, but there's no response. He's told her never to enter without permission, but she's concerned.

She comes up behind him, places the cup on the desk and kisses the top of his head. He stirs but does not wake. She smiles, relieved that he appears to be fine. She's about to sneak out when the text on the screen catches her attention.


I cannot eat or sleep or think. I am consumed with need for you. My body craves your touch. I will not survive unless I soon feel your mouth on my breasts, your manhood ravaging my sex.

When you pace back and forth in front of the class, pretending to ignore me, I feel I will die of neglect. We must meet again, before I wither away. Come to me, soon, and let the fires of passion consume us once more.

Please, send me a sign that you still desire me.

Yours forever,

She pinches his shoulder. The professor wakes, sputtering. “Miranda! What are you doing in here?”

“I knocked,” she says, working hard to calm her suspicions. “You didn't answer.”

“Well...well...don't do it again...” He surreptitiously moves the mouse, ready to close the document.

“Wait!” Miranda cries. “What's this, anyway?”

“What's what?”

“This – love letter, or whatever.” Miranda's indignation rings in her voice.

Darwin shrugs. “Oh,, well, that's part of the novel I'm writing.”

“You're writing a novel? Since when? Is it a dirty novel?”

“Of course not.”

“Sounds dirty to me.” Miranda gives a self-righteous huff and flounces off. The professor breathes a sigh of relief.


Scenario 3:

Marilyn is studying to be a sex therapist. This week's lesson deals with cunnilingus – physiology, psychology, history, variations, techniques, taboos, and so on. She dutifully reads the text book and studies the diagrams, lazily fingering her clit as she slogs through the dense material. If her boyfriend Leon were here, he'd undoubtedly provide some practical assistance, but tonight he's stuck at the restaurant where he works until past midnight.

She looks up, her head aching and her pussy throbbing, to see Bill, their golden retriever, watching her intently. A flash of inspiration strikes. “Bill,” she croons. “Come over here, boy.”

It's nearly one A.M. when Leon finally gets home. He finds Marilyn nude and barely conscious on the carpet – limbs splayed, face flushed, damp with sweat and other fluids.

“Baby! What happened?” Leon asks, helping her to a sitting position.

Her lids flicker over her glazed eyes. She barely seems to recognize him.

“Oh, the dog ate my homework.”


And for that, my dear readers, I'm afraid I have no excuse!


  1. The scenarios are amusing. I'm sure someone, somewhere, sometime, has actually tried these excuses!

    Strangest ones I had when I was teaching undergraduates (though they're not erotic ones!):

    1. A flight log. On close inspection it appeared that at the time of the deadline and for several hours before, the student had been winchman on an airsea search and rescue helicopter, with the co-ordinates of the rescue given. Turns out he wasn't supposed to be on duty but if a call comes in in the last minute of your shift, you still answer it.

    2. 'Sorry,I was on my way to hand the work in and got kidnapped.' Again it turned out to be true, and verified by the police. The student was from a Chinese family and had been kidnapped by triads as leverage to get her father to pay protection money. Fortunately she'd been released unharmed after about a week - I don't know whether the father paid the money.

  2. Lisabet,

    I'm going to be chuckling about that last line for the rest of the day.

    Student excuses always make me smile. Thanks for reminding me how much fun this job can be sometimes.



  3. Oh, what a lovely post to wake up to, I'm still giggling!

    Of course, what you're saying is that your students' excuses are just not dirty enough to pass muster!

    ...I guess that's as good a way as any to discover if any of them have been able to track you down to this little corner of the web!

    "You see, I couldn't pass in my project because I lost my interview notes before I could type them up, they must have gotten stuck to someone's naked, sweaty back during the post-interview orgy and they didn't notice until they got home and found ink stains on their bum! I'm sure, though, that if you give me another week's extension I can track down whoever has them and um...convince them to give them back to me!"

  4. I guess it's a good thing the gal in your last example didn't have pet snakes instead. Oh wait, that would be biology class excuses.

  5. Supposed dubious taste aside, I laughed out loud!

  6. Hi Lisabet!

    Sounds like rock n roll to me.

    This could mke an interesting theme sometime - excuses. We could do things with that.


  7. These were too funny, Lisabet. Thanks for sharing. Can't say I ever used any of these excuses before. LOL

  8. Hello, all,

    Thanks for sharing your comments - and excuses.

    Fulani - Amazing! But if they're true, aren't these explanations rather than excuses?

    Ash - I'd rather have the students do the work than come up with creative excuses. Still, if they can't manage the former, it would be fun to get the latter.

    madelineelayne - Heaven forfend! My students must never connect me with my literary persona! Anyway, they're very shy about sex. They're so young...

    unwriter - Snakes? Hmm. Sounds like an Indiana Jones movie to me...!

    Kathleen - Thank you... I'm trying to learn to be funny. It doesn't come naturally, but I have excellent models here at the Grip.

    Emerald - Thank you... I'm glad I accomplished my objectives!

    Garce - as they say, "thanks for reading my stuff".

    Latesha - No, I haven't used any of these either. But then I'm always such a good girl, I don't need excuses!

  9. The absolute best use of "the dog ate my homework" ever! I must find a suitable reward.

    The dog ate my homework, indeed! And it's put me back to thinking about getting that PhD in Sexology...


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