I Accidentally Became the Principal for Three Hours

My biggest achievement in life was accidentally becoming the principal of a school without having the qualifications, the experience, or even the ability to wake up before 9 a.m.
It happened on a Monday, which should have been my first warning.I had gone to my cousin’s school to deliver her lunchbox. Unfortunately, I was wearing a formal black shirt, carrying a file, and looking extremely annoyed because the auto driver had charged me extra. Apparently, this was enough to convince the receptionist that I was the new principal.“Good morning, ma’am! Everyone is waiting for you.”
I looked behind me.Nobody else was there.“Me?”“Yes, ma’am. The management has been expecting you.”I should have clarified the misunderstanding. Instead, I panicked and said, “Obviously.”
That was mistake number one.Within fifteen minutes, I was sitting in the principal’s office, drinking terrible tea and pretending to understand a spreadsheet. A teacher entered to complain about Class 8B.“What should we do about them, ma’am?”I had never met Class 8B. For all I knew, they were a criminal organisation.“Have you tried talking to them?” I asked wisely.
The teacher looked impressed. Apparently, nobody had considered communication in an educational institution.Then came the students.One boy had been caught selling samosas during mathematics class. Another had started a rumour that the school was replacing examinations with dance competitions. A third wanted permission to bring his pet goat for a 
science project.I approved the goat.Why? Because at that point, I was curious to see what would happen.By lunchtime, the goat had eaten a teacher’sattendance register, two students were arguing over ownership of a suspiciously large packet of chips, and someone had written “LONG LIVE OUR PRINCIPAL” on the blackboard.
I was beginning to enjoy my position.Then the real principal arrived.He stood in the doorway, looking at the goat, the cheering students, and me wearing his name badge upside down.
“Who are you?”I considered several options.“Educational consultant,” I said.He called security.I ran.Unfortunately, I ran straight into the schoolassembly, where hundreds of students watched me trip over a microphone cable.The microphone switched on.“YOUR PRINCIPAL IS A FRAUD!” someone shouted.
It was the goat.Three weeks later, the school introduced an official no-goats policy.I was banned from the premises for life.Honestly, I still think I did a better job than the previous administration. At least my staff meetings had snacks.
Some people leave behind legacies; I left behind a goat, a scandal, and an educational reform nobody requested.