I Got Yer "Bean Bag" Right Here, BITCH
I remember my first day of school, I remember the cold air in the morning, I remember the floor mats where they expected me to actually "nap" (as if), I remember the cookies weren't very great and the little carton of milk felt soggy and a little warm. I also remember that the very first thing I ever thought about the very first teacher I ever had was "this woman is an idiot."
Although I don't remember her name.
She stood up in front of the class and introduced herself:
"Good morning everybody, my name is Mrs. Forgettable, and the first thing we are gonna do is play a game. I have a bean bag and when I toss it to you, you catch it, then say your name and tell us all what you want to be when you grow up."
Ok, so maybe thinking she was an idiot wasn't the FIRST thing I thought about her, but I arrived at that conclusion before I was officially bean bagged into the turd we call compulsory public education.
"What do I WANT to be? Is something going to happen in life where I am gonna haff to change who I already AM?" I thought.
She tossed the bean bag to a dozen or so future firemen, cops, princesses, and gynecologists while the chemicals in my head began to pulse and make my heart beat faster, nervous that I might drop the bean bag and look retarded, but mostly because I was getting ready to make a statement, to issue a decree of sorts, you know, I was ready to let it be known that I didn't like the way this whole little "bean bag" deal was going and I was determined set her straight. I wasn't about to be molded.
The bean bag finally made it my way and I caught it without even squinting like a bunch of the other morons, I took a swallow as my face grew hot, I looked my teacher straight in the eye and gave her a very clear "watch this" kind of look and then I turned towards the rest of my classmates to whom I really wanted to direct my dismissives.
"I don't WANT to BE anything, I AM an artist."
Take that Fireman. Take that Teacher. Take that Sewage Plant Poop Blender.
Growing up, my dad used to occasionally drop into school and come straight to my class and tell the teacher he needed to pull me out of school for the day and then we'd go out for hamburgers and a movie and on one such day, while making the "always remember to take a break" speech that my dad loved to give every five minutes, he said to me;
"Son, my good son, most of your teachers are complete idiots, never think for a second that any of them are any smarter than you."
"Duh dad, I know."
And I did know. Maybe some people are just born thinking they are better than everyone. I think I am one of those people.
Now for Jill;
That's all for now,
Don't get caught talkin all "bean bag" this and "bean bag" that when it very well could have been a ball or red hot spikey hammer but "bean bag" sounded more kindergarteny.
Your Third Grade Teacher Who You Often Imagined Naked,
Mrs. Roth
