The prompt that I chose this week is:
"Something embarrassing that happened at school."
Writer’s Workshop Thursday: Red-faced and Red Behind
Mama Kat wrote in her blog about an embarrassing situation that she encountered after switching from private to public school. She and I led parallel lives in that respect, because I did the same thing. I don't remember wanting to make the switch. A lot changed for my family that year. Eighth grade was total torment and one embarrassment after another.
I have never been one to leave well enough alone. In some situations, I haven't thought that it was "well enough" to begin with.
I also went up against someone bigger than me on several occasions. The first that I can recall with someone significantly bigger than me was when I was six years old. It was my first grade teacher, Miss Cromer. She must have been a hundred years old...well, ok, maybe only in her twenties, but she seemed a hundred to me at the time. :)
It was the first day of school and I was just scared of being away from my mama. I wouldn't sit at the desk. I sat in the floor near the door so that I could escape when she wasn't looking. She was always looking.
When she stood up and walked toward me, I scooted back and bumped into the stand that held the great big tablet they used to show us proper handwriting form. That set it to rocking and nearly falling over, but I don't think that it actually ever fell.
She made it over to me and swatted my leg and went back to her desk. Well, being the me that I was, and still am to a degree, as soon as she sat down, I marched my little sassy self up to her desk and said with all the force that I could muster "you big DUMMY!"
Needless to say, that didn't go over too well.
She escorted me to the front of the room where she turned my little behind over her stool and proceeded to wear me out in front of everybody. I was embarrassed, angry and, no, this didn't make me less afraid of school. I was so upset that my reaction caused another little girl to go running back home, having to cross a busy highway to do so. Her mama turned around and there she was. I wish that I had made that same escape...her house, my house, didn't matter. I just didn't want to be there with that woman.
Please be sure to visit Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop and join her linky.