Goody Two Shoes: Part 1

I don’t actually have a lot of memories of my childhood.

I think I remember showing up for kindergarten and being the only kid not crying. I was like “let me at those toys, see ya ma”.

I remember I liked blocks. I remember they had some kind of thing where you pretend to cut something and I thought it was lame.

I remember worksheets being easy and getting me lots of easy praise, probably a first for me.

At some young age we were all in the library. We may have had a substitute teacher. I had to pee and told her so. She told me to wait. I sat down. I could not wait. I peed my pants, the chair and the floor. I think someone else told her. She told me “why didn’t you tell me if you really had to go?” I was thinking “I did…?” I don’t remember if I said it. My first disappointment by public authority figure.

In around the second or third grade I was asked to help some slow readers. We sat outside in a circle. I enjoyed it. At home on my own instigation I made them badges that said “improved reader”.

At some point, around third grade, I was a playleader for younger kids. I remember some younger kid calling “hey playleader!” in the grocery store. I don’t recall much about it though.

In around the third grade, someone answered a question with some extremely lame answer, I rolled my eyes, and the teacher yelled at me.

In the fourth grade, the teacher got mad at the class, and made us all write sentences 200 times or whatever. When I handed mine in, she said “oh YOU didn’t have to do it.” So the next time, I said something to her like “Well?” and then she made me do it. Wtf. That’s pretty much all I remember about her.

In the second half of the fourth grade, I was moved to a mixed 4/5 class. There were only about 8 4th graders. I had the same teacher the next year, and then she moved up to 6th and I had her *again*. I loved her at first and was sick of her by the end. She lurved me the whole time.

During my time in her fourth grade class, I was called out of class and they didn’t tell me why. Someone walked me across campus, towards the principal’s office… I’m thinking WHAT DID I DO cause I never did anything… and then right on past the the principal’s office, to some room where they gave me what turned out to be an IQ test. Which led to getting to hang out in the auditorium and cut out advertisements of types of propaganda, and play go maku on graph paper. This was “special class” for what my mom called the “gifted schmifted.” This is all I remember of it. My mom remembers more about PTA meetings with squabbling on the subject, than I do on the class.

In the sixth grade, I don’t know what possessed me, I heaved a wad of paper over the fence into someone’s yard and got yelled at by a teacher and I thought I was gonna pee my pants and die right then.

Also in the sixth grade, I was called out to meet for a fight. I ran past the spot and claimed she didn’t show. She claimed the same and we forgot the whole thing.

My bro used to get chased home every day. He was 1.5 years younger. Somehow this was my fault but I never even saw it happen.

My friends and I became pets of the vice prinicipal, which horrified even us. She used to line everyone up and search purses for markers used for graffiti, and impose dress codes. But she “let” us file papers in the library during recess. We didn’t like playing on the field, preferring to read books. We used to pull papers *out* of the file drawers, read library books, and if someone came in we chucked the books in the back of the drawer and started filing the papers back in. This skill set has served me well.

At home, I remember watching TV, or reading in the other room while people watched TV I didn’t like. All in the Family made me mad because I was overly literal. Hogan’s Heroes confused me because I didn’t understand why they didn’t just escape and go home. I watched Bewitched and tried the nose twitch… nothing. I watched Jeannie and tried the eye blink… nothing. We used to discuss the Brady Bunch at school every Monday.

I remember our yearly vacations, sort of, as a conglomerate… doing massive yard work for the only time all year, right before we left… camping for two weeks and fishing, the only time my parents liked each other and the only time we really hung with my dad… and then a week at the beach in a hotel with my mom and grandma every year.

Pretty much the only thing I ever did wrong during this time that I can think of is physically fight like a dog with my brother when we were left alone at home or at grandma’s. But no one really noticed cause hey, we were alone…

That is all for the current brain dump.