Kindergarten

My boys are about to start Kindergarten .... Kindergarten! It makes me feel nostalgic. Last year I ran into my Kindergarten teacher Mrs. Jenkins for the first time in - a long time. She rode a bright orange corvette and wore her hair in a black bouffant. My six-year-old self adored her. I even told my parents I wished they drove an orange corvette. She recognized me and even remembered some specifics things about me and my family. Amazing. What I remember a lot about Kindergarten is this.

We sat in groups arranged by alphabetical order. I sat by Jake Leachman. I was painfully shy. I was feeling sick. I stood up and whispered to the substitute teacher that I didn't feel well. I was hoping she would send me to the little bathroom in the back of the classroom so I could throw up in the miniature sized toilet. She sent me back to my desk. I threw up. My lunch spread not only on my desk but on all the desks around me. It was humiliating.

After first grade my family moved and I didn't see my Kindergarten classmates until we all landed at the same high school. My journalism class was arranged in alphabetical order, so that put me right next to Jake Leachman. He looked at me and said "I know you, you puked on my desk in Kindergarten." Instafriends. The moral of the story: I learned puking on someone's desk doesn't make you a social outcast
for life. Also, my looks haven't changed since Kindergarten.