That’s what that prompt mean to me. If you didn’t catch the quirk, it was asking about my first memories in school.
Nothing short of pure blundering and blind panicked flight. For this, I invite you to stoll in our livid imaginations/alterations about our entrance into realizing that you are in fact not the youngest (me) in the household. And what’s that? There are other kids your age just as snooty?!
Clearly, I was a pageant child.
Here I’ve got three wonderous examples to parents, and perhaps aging (genius) toddlers alike what it’s truly like to enter the school grounds.
One of my earliest memory in kindergarden had been in Hong Kong, next to my Grandmother’s apartment, where the entrance always stunk of wild cats and their feces. Didn’t stop me a bit to go right ahead and chase them though. For funsies. I don’t kill animals. Unless they are served on the platter for me..
Any who, this memory only resulted in me falling asleep during class, right after the new teacher threw up – cause us darlings were too terrifyingly attentive – and the next thing happened to be the afternoon bell for break time. I woke up rejuvenated and largely educated that there exists rules my entitlements on the play ground. First shots, and every other consecutive time, on the swings, monkey bars, and slides m’lady. It was a rather exceptional day.
Don’t worry, something worse happens. Quit wishing.
So in grade 3, I somehow really discovered, or more likely defined the difference between a boy and a girl. Before that it was just one with short hair and the other with long. Both sounding like tweedie the bird, who would know the better.
Let me just reminisce for a moment for the beautiful little Caucasian wonders – blue eyes blonder hair and all – before I break the spell and say they were all perverse fools in progress.
I really do think it was them who invented the game of butt slapping to be a game. It’s a child’s rendition for a poor excuse to pinch a girl’s breeches. Or vice versa. Not that I had any great desire to touch anyone’s nether regions. I had enough struggle trying to process why somebody would ever want to touch themselves there. Even in the shower. For cleansing purposes. And I frequently patronized these thoughts while I sung my heart out on the toilet seat for my mother to come take care of doodie.
But I played anyway. And since I was so fiercely determined to win, I ran full force into another girl and got a slit scar right at my eyebrow, which lovingly lasts to cause a brief baldness of hair to this day.
Could I also mention just how I was quite frankly fascinated with the amount of blood that came out? Balls to the people who called me air-head. Hah.
Alas, all of these events seemed rather mundane for the magnificent Duck. I understand. Let me tell you a shit story. A literal shit story.
Again, in the brief moments of grade 3 I was attending a rather prestigious school with international students. Also where the boys, who I had found out above, were (sadly) discovered only good for looking and not talking. Or touching. Regardless, there were uniforms for both sexes and as a girl I was asked to wear a blue striped dress. Hardly a task for some spoil brat in love with Barbie and Ken.
I peg it as I was just way too excited for everyone else to witness the Duck that day, for I had a terrible stomach ache during the car ride there. Of which my mother shot me the solution – hold it in.
On no accounts should anyone, under 16 and over 60, or honestly, anywhere in between hold anything in.
No I didn’t crap my pants in the car. I wouldn’t be alive for that. My -whatever-age-of-grade-3-hide would be emulating as a rug throw around the house for my mom about now. If possible, it was a rather worse suspense. I don’t know if this should indeed contribute towards furthering my bragrights™, I’d thought it was only possible for the elephants my family and I rode in Thailand, who in succession to following behind each other, alternatively pooped along the trail.
Yeah, I think I kinda shit my pants while walking into the school.
At that, my mother finally realizes just how urgent the matter was. This should be lesson that no kid’s issues should be taken lightly guys. Your rather expensive uniform could be costly and your social status as perfect mama would take a hard hit.
Her solution was as simple as the last. She took my panties and off she went.
She wasn’t heartless though, she brought me to my home room and fluffed my skirts around me so I sat like a perfect lady. Pure naked baby bum against the carpet floor. I don’t think I ever looked back.
If you’re wondering, she did in fact bring back a fresh pair of under garments for me to change into.
What’s your first memories of school?
March 27, 2013 at 5:11 PM
So evocative! Thanks for sharing these madcap memories. Would you mind linking back to the original prompt post so your readers can find it?
March 27, 2013 at 6:21 PM
Haha, I’m glad you enjoyed it !
Not at all, just did (: Thanks for the prompt !
March 29, 2013 at 12:39 AM
I bawled my eyes out on the first day of school. How embarrassing. The first classmate I targeted for marriage was Sarah, but she broke my heart (not before my parents made tape recordings of my marriage plans), so I got smart, and tried to silently woo Tanya, which basically meant trying to sit next to her. Then there was Hayley, I think Hayley might have liked me, but I didn’t realise it. She is still the first girl to give me tongue action. We didn’t kiss, we just poked our tongues out, and moved our heads closer to each other until contact. Lasted all of a split second, such an odd sensation the first time!
March 29, 2013 at 10:54 AM
Hahahaha! Omygoodness, what memories lol! But wow sir, you move through the girls fast. Bravo.
This is so sweet ((: I’m glad there isn’t any ‘bully her and pull her pigtails’ as a means to woo them.
How old were you to think of marriage??
There’s nothing like pretentious first kisses. Such adorable children.
Thank you so much for sharing and giving me such a start to my morning ! Cackles.
March 29, 2013 at 12:46 PM
Hey, I didn’t move fast, I was just rejected fast. Flash hasn’t got anything on me in that department. I was all of 5 to think of marriage. Yeah, no pulling pigtails, I always thought girls were aces.
March 29, 2013 at 2:59 PM
Lol! I can explain that. Until the age of approximately 11-12 I still thought boys had cooties, so you were half their age early. It’s not you Kiwi.
Awe, I remember my dad entertaining that boys bullied you because they liked you, so in grade 4, thanks to HIS prompt, I went and asked out the meanest boy in school. He just looked at me and didn’t say anything until I left. Thanks pop.
March 29, 2013 at 3:44 PM
I thought they had cooties too (well, we called them germs) but the girls were so sweet, how could I let cooties stop me? The school yard paparazzi were harder to deal with. Always spying you from the bushes while you sit on the hill with Aileen at recess picking dandelions, then the reports come out of you and Aileen up in a tree with the k i s s i n g. Patently untrue because there wasn’t a single tree at school with enough room for two kids on a branch. I could never get anyone to print a retraction either.
March 29, 2013 at 4:41 PM
Awe ! What a cute childhood.. and there I was chasing around guys to slap their bottoms. Very sweet indeed.
You guys could’ve been the poster child! Accompanied by some melodramatic poetry!
Technically, that song is about the kids inside* the tree no? Haha,
March 29, 2013 at 8:09 AM
Oh god. The only thing worse would be crapping your pants in high school! I once farted during a moment of silence at assembly. I was mortified!! >.< I thought it was going to be silent I swear!
Thanks for sharing Ducky 🙂
Rohan.
March 29, 2013 at 11:08 AM
Haha ! Ohmygoodness, for a moment I thought crapping in high school was your story. lol! Awe, well, at least since it was a silence so nobody could comment and say the better eh? Double standards works !
You too.. I need to get you a nickname..
Sarah.
March 30, 2013 at 1:06 PM
Oh god, if I crapped my pants in high school I wouldn’t be writing this, I would have suffered death from embarrassment!
Yeah exactly, saved by the silence 🙂
Haha, you like ducky huh? I look forward to my nick name!
All the best.
Rohan.
March 30, 2013 at 7:17 PM
Lol! What happened to the enthusiasm Rohan?! Haha that would’ve been quite the story.
Yes.. a certain sense of giving thanks in your silence. 😛
Ah, another blogger has already determined that she’ll call me Ducky from now on. I mean, it goes along with the strings of animal nicknames I’ve got over the years; Panda, Kitten, Koala, Mouse.. I think the only relevance they have to each other is how poly-roly they appear as cartoons.
Keep in touch ! (:
Sarah.