The Very Clear Hatred of Someone I've Never Met

I was in a first grade classroom today, and the teacher's lesson plans called for cutting and gluing all day. Needless to say, paper scraps everywhere, and sticky hands for all.

Shortly before lunch, we even made "Groundhog Day" puppets. They were cute, but it also meant I spent most of the afternoon having to yell at kids to stop playing with aforementioned puppets. It seemed pretty obvious to me even before we made them that this would be the natural outcome, so the only thing I'm left to assume is that, for some reason, the teacher must really, really hate me. (Even though I've never met her.)