Speaking of elementary, I have come to realize how much of a loser I actually was in elementary school. We were discussing that whole experience at freshman dinner and when I was telling them what I was like and watching everyone laugh hysterically, I realized. I was a nerd and I didn’t even know it-which is good- that means I’m a cool nerd, right? So here’s a little overview of Beth.
My parents let me dress myself when I started kindergarden (pronounced kin-duh-garden because I couldn’t say my Rs). So, I was normally decked out in the mickey mouse shirt with the purple flowered pants, red socks, and my corrective shoes. Complete with retainer and usually a headband that I didn’t know how to wear correctly, my outfit properly complimented my fat little body. Later in life, we added some giant glasses that went halfway down my face because of the BIFOCALS. In the fifth grade, my favorite outfit was purple boxers with neon flowers, a green shirt to match the flowers, green socks, and (drumroll please) brown sandals. It was hott, I’m not gonna lie.
I hated PE but I was world renowned for my jump roping skills. I anxiously awaited the JumpRope for Heart thing that would come every year. It was my time to shine. Other than that, physical activity was pretty much torture. My kickball team would put me in the outfield and then I would jam my fingers when I tried to catch the ball. During the presidential fitness test, Mrs. Hagelstein would line the class up and sit them on the sidewalk and then call your name to walk the Walk of Shame. Then I would stand on the chair and grab the pull up bar and she would take the chair out from under me and I would just hang until I fell off, like a bag of ham or something. I seem to remember some pretty traumatic experiences with dogeball as well…..
School pictures were the worst. My fifth grade year, we were invited to bring our most prized possession,which for me was a stuffed duck ( a teddy duck, if you will). During the class picture, they made us leave our things on a table and some other kids were over there so in the picture, I’m not looking at the camera but at my duck off stage.
I was pretty nice to everyone. The only time I remember being truly hateful was after a stressful kickball game. This mean kid, John Brown, was making fun of me so I called him a slave. Yep, that’s right. He’s white too. A slave. (I’ve pretty much decided that I did that because we had just finished studying John Brown the abolitionist and I was just mixing that whole group together). Yep, had to sign THE BOOK, which was a fate worse than death. I cried. Another time, I got reprimanded because I told my teacher I had to go to the “john”. She said that wasn’t lady like but I never really understood that because I learned that phrase from my grandmother.
Oh, Nanny. One time I was sitting on the ALPS bus waiting for other kids to get on (Chyng and I had probably just finished having our rock war with William- it was a weekly occurence), and I turned to look out the window and my grandmother is running toward me holding my sack lunch in the air like a torch. That wasn’t the worst part. She had a turban on. and a broom stick skirt. She appeared to be a lunch carrying, running, gypsy. She got on the bus and handed me my lunch. I was hecka embarassed then but man oh man is it a funny memory now.
Yeah, so that’s me in a nutshell. When I wasn’t at school, I was at home listening to a tape my cousin had made me, something about SPAM. Emily U. and I had a library of babysitter’s club books (almost every one- even the special editions). Sometimes, I’m tempted to break out the old stirrup pants and the painted cat shirt, but Elizabeth always stops me.
Tell me what you were like in elementary. Let the little porky four eyes have a chance to rear it’s cute head again.