`PRINCIPAL FOR A DAY' GETS REFRESHER COURSE IN BOYS AND GIRLS 101.

Byline: Dennis McCarthy 

It's 8:30 a.m., and the first problem of the day walks into the principal's office - Mikey and his mom.

It's a domestic dispute. Mikey and one of his classmates, Susie, have this thing going in their third-grade classroom - an infatuation, Mikey's mother calls it.

Every time Susie makes funny faces at Mikey, he laughs. The kid can't help it. Susie makes great funny faces.

The problem is that when Mikey breaks up laughing, it disrupts the class - driving the substitute teacher who's been taking over the class for a few weeks right up a wall.

Word around the school is that she's a nice woman who runs a pretty tight ship, trying to keep 32 kids in line without a whip and a chair.

So when she's had enough laughter, it's always Mikey making the long walk down to the principal's office - ever the gentleman, refusing to rat out Susie because, well, he's got this thing for her. She makes great funny faces.

I can feel for the kid. It's an age-old story. Boy meets girl, girl makes funny faces and gets boy in trouble, boy takes the rap for girl.

It's as old as the creation of time, when Eve sweet-talked Adam into taking that bite out of the apple, and got them both kicked out of Eden.

Later, Cleopatra came along to cause more havoc for men. Today, it's Madonna and Susie.

``I don't know what to do,'' Mikey's mom is saying, looking across the principal's desk at Jim Robertson and me Monday morning.

Jim's the principal at Lupin Hill Elementary School in the Las Virgenes Unified School District, where all the schools had a guest principal Monday.

I was Lupin's ``Principal for a Day,'' learning the ropes about one of the most despised, thankless jobs in America since actor Gale Gordon forever defined the position back in the late '50s playing Osgood Conklin on ``Our Miss Brooks.''

This thing Mikey and Susie had going was my first test case of the morning, and Jim was shepherding me through it.

``Would it help if we moved you away from Susie?'' Jim asked.

Mikey's face fell and his eyes went to the floor. ``No,'' he said, suggesting he'd rather have time taken off his recess period if he laughed out loud at one of Susie's funny faces again.

The poor kid had it bad. I don't know too many third-grade boys who would give up a minute of their recess time for a girl.

After we got Mikey and his mom straightened out, Jim and I walked outside for a tour of yard duty. I immediately got a case of deja vu.

I hadn't felt this vulnerable since I walked through the yard at San Quentin with a few guards on a Death Row story back in the mid-1980s.

Danger lurked everywhere. On both yards.

A little girl ran up and started yanking at my sleeve, complaining that the boys ``weren't being nice.''

Things hadn't changed much since I was a kid. They've never been nice, honey.

Two other girls ran up behind her. They were crying. The ball monitor hit them in the face with a ball they were returning, they said.

A boy yanked hard at my arm, complaining that some other boys were cheating at four-square, a game they were playing.

And, if things weren't bad enough, Juan was missing.

``This an average morning around here, Jim?'' I asked.

``Actually, it's a little slow,'' he said, smiling.

I don't know what they're paying this guy, but it's not enough.

We found Juan and got him back to class, made the ball monitor apologize to the girls for hitting them with a ball, broke up the four-square game, and told all the boys to start being nice to the girls, or else.

Then, we headed back to the quiet and safety of Jim's office. If ever an office needed a wet bar, it's a principal's - but district officials seem to frown on the idea.

In 10 minutes, Jim had to give a guided tour to a new parent who wasn't sure his school could handle the immense intelligence her preschool son was displaying at the art of reading.

The way this proud mother carried on, she was on course to have the youngest child to ever finish ``War and Peace'' before kindergarten.

After the tour, the woman said she'd get back to Jim with her decision. Jim told her to take her time. His teachers had plenty of kids already reading ``War and Peace.''

We took the long way around getting back to his office, walking by Mikey's class to check it out. No one was laughing. A good sign.

We checked in on Juan. He hadn't gotten lost again.

We were stopped by a couple of fifth-grade girls breathlessly tattling on a boy who was talking in the library.

We stuck our heads into the nurse's office. All cots full and accounted for.

Back inside Jim's office, there was a stack full of phone and computer Internet messages that needed his immediate attention.

No problem. He had all of 15 free minutes before heading off for a faculty meeting on curriculum and staffing. That night, he had a parents meeting.

At 3:30 p.m., I staggered out of his office with a pretty good feel for what it's like to be a school principal.

No wonder Osgood Conklin was such a grouch.

MEMO: Dennis McCarthy's column appears Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Sunday.