Tuesday, February 19, 2013

I'm Suppose To Do What With This!?

Let's take a walk down Memory Lane.

I couldn't wait to go to kindergarten, I would go with my Mom to pick up my brother and they always looked like they were having so much fun. Then at home he would tell about all the wonderful things they had done that. Mom always displayed any school art work proudly on the fridge door. I was mislead by the rat. He only told the good things. He never bothered to mention I was going to have to be quiet, an impossibility for me. I never learned that lesson all 12 years of school. You should see my report cards (Mom still has all of our report cards in a box. I know when I go visit someone with children the first thing I ask is to see all their kids report cards). Every year, every teacher in every class would put a note beside my grade: " needs more control over not talking in class", "excellent student but needs to talk less during class", etc. So from that first day in kindergarten I was appalled that I couldn't talk anytime I wanted and always failed at that endeavor. About 2 weeks into kindergarten the teacher had to leave the room during our afternoon book reading, she took a little to long to get back so I got up on her stool and started reading the book for her. She came back and let me finish the whole book. I swear there was relief in her face when she said I don't think your in the right class. So the next day IT went in and was put in a 1st grade class, I was not quite 5 yrs old yet and already kicked out of kindergarten.

I was a wiley child though and knew instantly this teacher was going to be harder to charm, I also noticed that she ate those hard strawberry candies with the soft center in them that are wrapped in paper that looks like a strawberry. She sucked on them all day, the whole damn room smelled of strawberries.  Conveniently for me my grandmother also was addicted to the same candy and kept it in a big bowl on her dining room buffet table. I would fill my pockets full everytime I went to her house. So to keep from being in trouble for talking every day I started making little notes saying stupid and untrue stuff like, "your the best teacher in the whole world) and "you are my bestest friend" then I would tape a piece of that candy to the note and give it to her the next morning when class started. It worked, oh she still made the comment on my report card, but she just ignored my talking during class.

Then on to second grade, this teacher was one of my Mom's best friends and I got away with murder, I didn't even sit at my desk most of the time, just roamed around visiting all my other classmates. Still I managed to keep straight A's.

My third grade teacher was about 20 yrs past the time she should have retired, she was so over teaching at that point and half ass blind and hard of hearing  that she didn't know what we were doing or where we were most of the time. She drove me crazy blowing on a whistle every morning before class and making us sing "America" if she couldn't find that whistle I guess the whole experience was ruined for her and we didn't have to sing.  One day a magic faerie took that whistle. She looked everywhere except in my dresser drawer in my bedroom at my house. That is where the magic faerie had hidden it. That was the day the music died. I did not mourn.

Then comes fourth grade and finally I got to take my beloved art classes I had been waiting on. Then my rainbow faded when I sat down at the art table and saw some very watery paint, a paper plate, a can of paste and a cup full of uncooked macaroni noodles and was told to be creative. I'm suppose to do what with  this stuff? Oh yeah, be creative. I watched all the excited kids around me carefully pasting the ends of two pieces of macaroni together and painting them to put on their painted Christmas trees, some made Santa heads. Me? I slathered a bunch of paste on the plate, dumped all the noodles on the plate and poured black paint over the whole lot and called it a day. When the art teacher ask me what it was, I looked at her like she was stupid and told her it was a tornado. That was the only thing I could think of that was big, black and messy. I wish I had known about Big Foot back then.

That was also the year of the big Girl Scout Brownie Scandal. I might possibly be the only person in the country to get kicked out of the Brownies. I didn't even make it long enough to sell cookies. My big offence was refusing to make a candle in the shape and scent I was told and refusing to wear that dumbass looking beanie cap. I guess in the Girl Scout circuit that is a felony.


  1. I just joined your blog! Very funny post, and I enjoyed it...a lot!! I was a brownie...lol

  2. Oh I sooooo wish I had been you friend through-out your school years. It's tough being smarter than the rest. You know what I mean. And clever? Wow. Love you long time!
    BTW. I hope you're still pulling this shit. Makes the idiocy of life just a little more interesting.

  3. "She looked everywhere except in my dresser drawer in my bedroom at my house." Genuine laugh out loud. Quiet, but genuine. Also...did you not WANT to be in Girl Scouts and that's why you were such a little agitator?

  4. They wouldn't kick you out for that now.

  5. You should put up a picture of you as a little kid. I'd like to see it.

  6. Hahaha. Slick move with the whistle. I bet you were the hero to your classmates when they found out! :) Did they ever find out? Did the teacher ever find out??? Haha..

  7. Ha! I love the whistle story. I got kicked out of kindergarten too, a few months in, and my grade one teacher was M-E-A-N (not like my k teacher who was and is and ever shall be the world's nicest teacher). I started making non-stop mistakes on purpose so that I'd get sent to the resource teacher every morning to get "caught up" on things that I'd missed. I managed to fool the resource teacher for almost a month before she realized that I was a big fat faker. And then she sent me back to that horrible, horrible place called first grade.

    1. P.S. I'm probably lying with the "almost a month" bit. I was barely five. I had no sense of time. It was probably a week, but it FELT like a really long time. Ha!