I sat there at my desk, watching my leg bounce up and down like it does when I’m nervous. It was quiet time, and we were each supposed to be making a list of some famous people we’d like to report on.

I couldn’t think of one.

There was George Washington, but he had wooden teeth. That’s gross. There was Abraham Lincoln, but he had a mole that always reminds me of the one Head Teacher Love has on his face. That’s annoying. There was good old Thomas Edison, but he invented so many things that by the time I’d finish listing them, my presentation would be too long.

Wait a minute. How about Spider-Man? He’s famous. Oh, I forgot. He’s not real. I wish he was. Then maybe he’d help me swing out of this classroom on his webs.

Mr Rock went round the room, asking kids what famous person they had decided on. By the time the bell rang for break, I still hadn’t come up with anyone. On my way out of class, Mr Rock stopped me at the door.

“Well, Hank, have you made a decision?”

“Here’s the problem, Mr Rock,” I said. “There are so many people to choose from, I just can’t decide.”

“I have six words for you, Hank,” he said.

“You don’t have to do it?” I said, hoping that those were the words he was thinking of.

“Do your report on Albert Einstein,” he said. Not the words I’d had in mind.

“Albert Einstein. Did he play for the Mets?” I asked.

“No, but he did figure out that the fastest fastball could never travel faster than the speed of light,” Mr Rock said. “Albert Einstein was the greatest genius of the twentieth century. I think you have a lot in common with him.”

Me and the greatest genius of the twentieth century have something in common?

Mr Rock, get a grip.