I had a special school life in middle school. Simply because my father was our head teacher, something normal could have become amusing and in some cases embarrassing.

One day after school I was playing basketball with my mates. My father was waiting by the court. We would go home together after the game.

During the course of the game, a girl schoolmate I did not know stopped us and asked, “Hi, guys. Could you please come and help me open the classroom door? I couldn’t do it with the key.”

We were right into the game, so I said to her, “Sorry, we have no time for that. Could you please go and ask that guy over there for a hand?” Hearing my idea, the girl said in horror, “Oh no! That would be mad. Don’t you know the man is our headmaster?” Despite the girl’s mortification, I shouted to my father, “Dad, please come and help the girl to open her classroom door.”

After that, I said to the girl, “You see, no sweat. Why can’t you do that?”

After we resumed the game, my father went over and did the girl the favour. Seeing that, my friends all commented, “You are not a good boy.”

I still wonder why my friends said that.