life in kindergarten isn't as easy as it seems. semi-autobiographical. |
It was the first day of kindergarten for little Rachel. She couldn’t wait to go to school and learn and make friends. She met a boy that first day. His name was Justin. “How old are you?” she asked. “I’m five.” “I’m five too,” he replied. “When’s your birthday?” “March.” “Mine’s in Febroo-Febu-Feb-yoo-ary!” he cried triumphantly. “I’m older!” When playtime came, Rachel was bored. At her preschool, she’d eat dirt, but her mother told her that worms lived in the dirt. She tried to eat sand, but it was gritty and yucky. So she went to the jungle gym and asked Justin if she could play with him. “Uh-huh,” he told her. “We’re playing Magic School Bus. You can be Dorothy Ann ‘cause you’ve got yellow hair.” “Who are you being?” “I’m being Miss Frizzle! She’s the boss and the smartest!” They played together, going on a fantastic adventure to the deepest ocean where they found magical creatures. But just as Dorothy Ann was to be eaten by a hugegiant shark, the teacher called them to come inside. Justin had to leave just before lunch, but Rachel was staying for afternoon daycare. And that’s when she met Peter. Peter was seven years old and the oldest kid in the daycare. He could jump over the tunnel on the playground—the long way. Rachel had never met anyone so amazing. He taught her how to snap her fingers, and she showed her mother in the car on the way home. She wasn’t good yet, but she would be someday. The next day, morning kindergarten, Justin crawled into the tunnel with Rachel where the teacher couldn’t see and kissed her. “You’re my girlfriend now,” he told her. Rachel knew very little of how to be a girlfriend. So she just nodded. She was his girlfriend for three whole months. Some days, they’d play Magic School Bus. Justin was always Miss Frizzle. Other days, they’d reenact Disney movies and crawl into the tunnel for the big final kiss. In the afternoons, when Justin was gone, Rachel learned new things from Peter. She learned how to whistle and skip and jump over the tunnel—but only the short way. Then one day, she asked Justin to play Beauty and the Beast with her again. It was her favorite game. “I wanna play Magic School Bus!” he whined. “But we played that yesterday!” Rachel complained. “We always play that!” “That’s ‘cause it’s better than stupid Beauty and the Beast!” That afternoon, Rachel wouldn’t let Peter teach her anything new. “Justin’s not my boyfriend anymore,” she explained with a pout. “So?” Peter asked. “So I’m sad.” “Get over it,” Peter replied. “You’re not the coolest girl in the world. Not everyone’s always gonna like you.” “Why not?” Rachel asked. “’Cause people are stupid,” Peter replied. “But you have special cool friends like me who like you. And you’re always gonna have friends who aren’t stupid.” “Forever?” “Forever.” And then he taught her to spin around until she was so dizzy she fell over, and how to stand up again. |