Friday, August 26, 2005

Maybe Not So Normal After All ...

I've always felt older than my chronological age.

Maybe because I'm the youngest in my family by several years. My brothers are nearly six and eight years older than me. Maybe I'm just an old soul.

For most of my school career, I felt like I could relate to my teachers more than my peers.

Ms. Prinz, my first-grade teacher, used to give me her markers when she'd buy a new set. I loved markers. Still do, really.

When was in second grade, with Mrs. Skibinski, I used to return to Ms. Prinz class, and, for lack of a better word, "tutor" the first-graders. What was I sharing? The vast knowledge I gained in the year since I'd been in first grade? What were the teachers thinking? Did they see in me some natural knack for teaching? Shouldn't I have been in my second-grade classroom, learning second-grade things? Or was I just ahead of the second-grade curve, and had time to spare?

Regardless, I remember taking little trinkets with me to the first-grade classroom, to incentivise the "kids," I guess. I remember taking a small pinecone and a little green plastic ... thing. Was it a comb or a bus? And shouldn't I remember the difference?

But the weirdest thing was that I used to carry them in my purse.

My purse.

In second grade, I was carrying a purse.

What does a second-grader carry in a purse? Cigarettes? Credit cards? A kicky lipstick?


Blogger Dave said...

What does a second-grader carry in her purse? Anything she wants, baby! :)

3:08 AM  

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