First impressions

...So important, aren't they? Thus imagine my chagrin when I realised I'd accidentally told the principal of the younger children's new school that I was my husband's paramour. I didn't mean to say it, and I certainly didn't mean to say it to him, but out it slipped, on the phone. He rang up and asked for my husband, who wasn't home at the time. I offered to take a message. 'So, you're his... his... his...' he said, leading me on. 'Yes, I'm the mistress,' I said flippantly. What was I thinking? What is wrong with me? When will I grow up? Then he introduced himself as the principal, graciously accepted my apologies, and when we met today, seemed to hold no grudges. However I would like to get a look at his marginalia. I mean the notes he keeps on his pupils' families.