It started in Kindergarten!

Here’s more confirmation that my insanity started at a young age.

When I was five years old.  I wanted a new bike for my birthday.  I had it picked out.  It was a “big girl” bike complete with gears, a basket and those tassel things for the handle bars.  It may or may not have had a big flag.  I’ll never tell. It was blue and green and was completely and totally awesome.

So my mom, knowing me by that point (shut up… I was adorable), said that if I went to my first day of kindergarten without crying that she would get me THE bike.

Now what you have to understand, and I learned this over the next several years (and this does explain a lot), while I was an only child, I was… brace yourself… a summer birthday.  Yes.  It’s true.  While all the other kids got to celebrate their birthdays with cupcakes and treats in the classroom, I had to do a “group” party with all the other summer birthdays.  It totally sucked.  Totally.

So it just so happened that the first day of school was right after my birthday.  Therefore my mom… thinking it wise… used bribery to get me to behave.

For weeks heading into my first day of kindergarten, I got new school supplies, new clothes and new tennis shoes. This was gonna be great.  It’s totally all about me! My mom and grandma spent weeks building up this “kindergarten gig”.  So when the time came I was like pretty psyched. 

So dressed in my new clothes and shoes, I walked into this room with lots of other kids.  They were running amok.  I am an only child who hung out with only adults.  These other kids were loud.  And running around.  I instantly didn’t like it.

The teacher greeted me and my mom and showed me my cubby.  And where the carpeted kitchen/reading area was.  And while this was all fine and dandy.  I couldn’t imagine where my mom was planning on sitting.  I mean.  All the tables were small and there were only a few adults still in the room.

Then the realization hit me.  She was planning on leaving me with these kids.  Seriously? These kids were loud.  And rowdy.  And probably germy (yes.  that started early too... shut up!).  I already knew how to tie my shoe, my alphabet and to count to 40.  I certainly didn’t need to learn anything else. 

Then the first sniffling cry fell on the room.  A mom was sneaking out, leaving her wailing snotty kid behind.  Then another, then another. What would possess my mom to leave me here?  I couldn’t see a benefit at all.  I mean… now, I’m terrified.

Then, she looked at me and said.  Don’t forget, no crying or you won’t get your bike.  Well, if I had no other reason to cry, then that was it.  I bawled like a baby. Along with every other kid in the room.  Except that one kid that ate glue.  Anyway. Now that I have children of my own, I can feel for the teacher.  Although my kids all ran into the room and never looked back at me.  What the heck!!?

But for me at age five.  It was terrifying and horrible.  I don’t remember much else from the day.  Clearly I lived and somehow managed to make it through grade school, high school and college.  So apparently I “like” education.  Yet oddly enough... not a fan of loud kids and germs ... still. 

By the way.  I totally rocked that bike.  Which I got despite crying.  It’s no wonder I’m totally spoiled!