Prepare yourself for two embarrassing stories. Only one of which is tied to me, thankfully.
The other day I was talking to my favorite first grader. She was telling me that she was scared to go to school because she might cry and that would be embarrassing. The first sentence out of my mouth was the title of this post ... and I preceded to tell her two stories from first grade that not only entertained her, but sent her confidently to school knowing that there were, in fact, far more embarrassing things than crying which could occur in the first grade.
In honor of her last day of school, I'll share those stories with you. Prepare yourself. They're gross. I don't generally do "gross" so if that doesn't jibe with you, stop reading! I promise I'll be prim and proper again tomorrow.
I don't know which story to start with? I guess I'll start with the other guy's ;)
Ok. So... I won't name names because that would be horrific. So let's just call the hero of our story "Alan". I will never forget this day... ever. Ever. In a zillion years, ever. I remember that it was really near the end of the day and the entire class began to sniff around. What was that smell? Could it be... ? No... surely it couldn't be... but then our teacher noticed it as well. She started walking around the room, looking from desk to desk and inspecting the area. And then the look of horror on her face as she exclaimed, "Oh, Alan!" in a tone that was half exasperation mixed with pure wonder and astonishment. See, poor Alan... I don't know what his issue was, but he had a bad case of diarrhea. He happened to be wearing super trendy white twill pants that had elastic at the bottom. It had leaked all down his leg and into a nice, smelly pile on the ground.
I'll never know what happened next, because shortly after "the discovery", the bell rang marking the end of the school day and I was gone, baby.
Ok. The next story will permanently change the way you view me forever.
I hate stopping what I'm doing to use the restroom. Always have, always will. It drives John crazy. Listen, people... I struggle with a little thing called "train of thought" and once it's derailed, it's never coming back. It doesn't take much, either. The smallest, littlest, tiniest thing is enough. So a trip to the bathroom is a death sentence. You can pretty much count on me NEVER going back to whatever it is I was doing. Never. So if I'm in the middle of something, I like to wait til I'm done.
Even if that something is 2 hours long.
So anyway, one day 1st grade Auna waited just a littttle bit too long and ended up having an "accident". Hm. In those days our elementary classrooms had a bathroom right inside the actual room. I went into the bathroom (about five minutes too late...) and panicked. What was I to do?! I couldn't wear my urine soaked panties for the rest of the day. Wasn't going to happen.
So I stashed 'em.
I balled them up and hid them behind the toilet and then went back to my seat, trying to play it cool like nothing happened.
Immediately after I sat down another girl went to use the restroom. Let's call her "Leslie". I'm half tempted to out her, because let's be real, she's responsible for one of the most traumatizing experiences of my childhood.
Anyway, she came out and stared right through my soul. She knew.
She went to the teacher and then our teacher went into the bathroom and found "them". I'll never forget what happened next. She put them on a stack of brown paper towel and carried them from desk to desk asking who they belonged to.
Oh come on, lady!
All of my friends kept checking their panties and saying, "got mine!" so I did what any 6 year old would do in that situation and followed suit. I pretended to see mine under my pink cords (cool, right? I was also wearing a pink sweater in the *exact* same shade with dancing bears on it. Hot.) and said loudly and with a ridiculous amount of confidence, "got mine!".
I don't know if she was on to me or not, but I have to suspect that she was.
I was mortified. I went home sobbing and made my mom march in there to claim my soiled drawers. When I look back now, I have to wonder why I ever 'fessed up? Why in the WORLD would I have done that? Poor, poor honest Auna. What were you thinking? Cut your loses and never turn back! You had 8 zillion other princess-themed panties at home.
I did feel a *little* bit better when my mom walked through the door carrying the stack of brown paper towels with my panties on top, though.
When I got done telling that story to the dear, worried little 1st grader (and her brother and sister who were more than eager to get in on it) she asked if I had had any other accidents in school. I'm proud to say that the answer is a resounding NO. Though, I'm sure the vast majority of you managed to make it K-12 without having any accidents at all.
Ah well. Me and Alan. We made quite the first grade pair.
What's your most embarrassing childhood school story? In honor of summer, feel free to weigh in below! I hope you have a fantastic day, and as always, thanks for reading!