Speaking with my Dad over the phone this morning, I mentioned that Matthew's going into the fourth grade. That's the first grade I remember bits and pieces of.
Dad: "The first year I remember is sixth grade. I don't remember much of fifth grade. Just that I had an old lady for a teacher who hated boys. She'd always make us sit quietly at our desks during recess while the girls got to go play. Of course that made us more restless the rest of the day.
"I remember one day I dropped a pencil on the floor. "Oops," I said, even though I'd done it on purpose. She sent me to the principle's office, probably more for saying something than for dropping it. I did tell the principle that I'd like to transfer to another class because my teacher didn't like boys, but he -- she? -- said it was too late in the year for that.
"I also remember being the school tetherball champ in fifth grade. I'd beat all the sixth graders too, even though I was short for my age. I had an advantage, since the challenger got to pick the direction of the first swing, and I was left handed. I also got to practice at home since my mom got me a pole to play on -- one in Ogden, and one at Bear lake.
"In sixth grade, we moved to Salt Lake. There was one other sixth grade lefty there, and he'd make me work for it. Everyone else I toyed with. It frustrated my stepfather that at over six feet he couldn't beat this five foot tall kid.
"In retrospect I guess it's too bad that I didn't spend that time on basketball, since there was no tetherball after sixth grade. But I had fun with it."
No comments:
Post a Comment