Thursday, May 3, 2018


Remember these?

Did you ever get in trouble as a kid?

Well first of all, thanks for bringing up one of the most painful experiences of my life.
In fourth grade I was ten years old, already mature physically, and pissed off at the world because I’d rather be a boy.  I hated periods, wearing bras and dealing with trying to be dainty.  Beyond that, I was a smartass and usually said what I was thinking and got into trouble almost daily.

My teacher was called away from the class to the office.  The class next door joined our class and that teacher was our chaperone.  We were playing math baseball.  The corners of the room are the bases and you have to get the math problem first to go to first base.  The person following you has tog et theirs right to go to first base and to let you proceed to second base, and so on.

I was up to bat and I did not get my math problem correct.  I turned to go back to my seat and the girl in front of me laughed at me to my face.  I graciously stuck my tongue out at her.
She raised her hand and said something like, “Teacher, Wilma stuck her tongue out at you.”
I’m like, “No I did not, I stuck it out at you.”

Just about that time our teacher came back to the classroom.  She must have just gotten reamed by the Principal because she asked what was happening and she and the other teacher conferred.  My teacher jerked me by my arm and grabbed the paddle hanging on the chalkboard.  She took me into the hallway and I got three very hard and loud whacks with that paddle.

I held back tears but I don’t think I lifted my head for the rest of the day.  When I got home I lost it entirely.  I bawled telling my mother what happened.  Instead of comforting me, I got another spanking.  My poor butt was on fire for quite some time.

I asked why I got spanked.  My mother told me that I was never to cause trouble at school.  I should behave and mind my manners.

To this day, I despise that teacher but even more I despise the girl who tattled on me and lied as well as to what happened.  I live with the peace of mind that karma has taken care of each of them.

I still have that teacher’s picture in my desk drawer and take it out frequently to remind myself of how much I hate her, and hope fleas infest her armpits, that her teeth fall out on Thanksgiving, and that a rat dies in her car and she can’t find it.

You don’t even want to know what I wish for my lying bitch of a classmate.

Peace be with you.

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