In honor of my sister's last day of school. My first day of school.

In honor of my sister and her last day of school.

Congratulations, Sis! You made it through an entire year, pumping on a tile floor in a small bathroom and loving your students no matter what challenges came your way.

Okay, so it was first grade again. Mrs. Wells returns.

Part I

September 1 is my birthday. I say this not so you’ll send me presents (but you can, really, I won’t mind), but so you know that my birthday always meant the beginning of the school year. Truly, is there a worse “gift” than the return of school after a summer of fun? Probably not.

Oh wait, yes there is.

There’s having your birthday on the very FIRST day of school.
Year: 1988.
Class: 1st grade.
Teacher: Mrs. Wells.
Age: 7 full years old.
Situation: About to get embarrassing.

Again, I found myself in a semi-circle of children at the front of our classroom, but this time, we were preparing to go through the day’s agenda. Something like: reading, recess, lunch, recess, math, God how I wish it were first grade again. Mrs. Wells concluded by saying:

“And, we have a birthday! Leslie, please come to the front of the class!”

I was thrilled. Ta da! That’s right folks. I’m seven. Yes, please do clap for me. I took my time walking up to the front amid claps, and then, Mrs. Wells said, “How old are you?”

“Seven,” I said with a grin.

“All right! You get seven spanks,” she said.

Um. Wait a minute.

This wasn’t part of the deal!

I watched her pat her leg for me to sit across and my eyebrows shot up. No way! Eek! How embarrassing!

And then she spanked me.

And called out every spank, "1! 2! 3! 4! 5! 6! 7!"

In front of the whole class!

Granted they weren’t real spanks. They were birthday spanks. But I was horribly embarrassed.

It’s a good thing I loved Mrs. Wells despite my first day of school memory. Oh, and this one.

Part II

Mrs. Wells was walking around our classroom with a bowl full of candy.

“All right class! Anyone who’s gotten their name on the board 2 times or less this year can reach in and grab a piece of candy!”

Oh buddy. I love candy. I don’t kind of love candy. I love candy like Fran Drescher loves big hair.

I watched her walk around the classroom and from afar, began deciding what candy bar I would pick from the bowl. Milky Ways were pretty good but so were 3 Musketeers. And Twix. Dang this was hard.

And then there she was, standing right in front of my desk with that glorious bowl of chocolate. I watched my friend reach in and saw Mrs. Wells smiled at her. And then I reached in and –

Mrs. Wells pulled the bowl away!

I must have looked shocked because she said, “Leslie, you can’t have any candy today. This is only for people who’ve had their names on the board two times or less.”

“Well, I’ve only had my name on the board a couple of times.”

“You’ve actually had your name on the board 17 times.”

17 times!

What?! I searched around the room for documentation. How could this be? 17?!?!?

Darn my chatterbox mouth and all of its repercussions!

I watched Mrs. Wells continuing to walk around the room with that bowl full of candy and cursed my mouth.

But then, I thought, probably my mom would get me a candy bar after dance class that night (see future posts on chubby girl in leotard) and everything would be right in the world.

Kris, I love you. You’re amazing. Thank you for teaching even the tough little kids like me with love!