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Archive for the ‘Red Dress Club’ Category

I’ve just recently learned about a virtual writing club called the Red Dress Club.

I was delighted to browse their website and read their bi-weekly writing prompts. It’s been ages since I’ve written just for fun, so I’m excited to take on the challenge of their Friday memoir writing challenge RemembeRED.

This week’s prompt is to recall kindergarten.

That’s not a big challenge for me.  My first day of kindergarten was a horrifying moment that remains crystallized in my memory, remembered with painful clarity.

A deeply introverted child, I was unprepared to be so matter-of-factly abandoned by my mother.  I stood frightened, watchful and overwhelmed as over-excited children milled around the crowded classroom.  And there was no comfort to be found in my greying teacher, Mrs. Spicer.  From my 5 year-old perspective, her heavily greyed hair, horn-rimmed glasses and crooked smile somehow reminded me of the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood.

The morning passed in a blur of construction paper crafts, and wooden building blocks before coming to a full stop for nap time, when we lay uncomfortably curled on small blue blankets arrayed row on row on the cold linoleum floor.

Following naptime was snack time, which would certainly have appalled today’s nutritionally conscious mothers. Dad’s oatmeal cookies and apple juice.

As the interminably long morning wore on, I grew increasingly restive.  I desperately needed to go to the bathroom, but intimidated by my surroundings and by my teacher, I was too shy to ask where it was.  Finally when I could hold it no longer, I peed where I stood, leaving a small yellow puddle on the floor.

When Mrs. Spicer saw the puddle, she demanded to know who had done it, and frightened I said nothing.  She had us line up shoulder-to-shoulder across the classroom, and grimly surveyed our line searching for the offender.  She paced down the line, like a general reviewing his troops.

I stood in guilty, terrified anticipation as her threatening wolf-like visage bore down on me, and vividly remember the humiliation washing over me when she grasped my shoulder and pulled me from the line.

And that’s where my memory blessedly fades to black.

As embarrassing as it was to have been the culprit that peed herself in kindergarten, I’ve always believed the villain of the piece is Mrs. Spicer.  Wouldn’t you agree?

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