Decityfying Country Girl

Dear Hello Kitty, 

I’m having a tough day.  While I am excited about this project, I’m not sure who you are!  Tough days remind me of tough times.  I remember when I was in the first grade and something traumatic, life altering, happened to me. 

It all started normally, I suppose, until lunch came.  I’m pretty hyper active and usually, daily really, I would ask my teacher, Mrs. Walls, if I could use the restroom.  Sometimes I would preen and sometimes I would primp and sometimes I would USE the restroom, but no matter what, Mrs. Walls would say, “Yes, you may go” after I asked permission. 

My school was shaped like a big horseshoe and the first grade restrooms were equidistant to the fifth grade restrooms, but something made me go left instead of right, and I ended up in the fifth grade girls’ restroom.  As a first grader, I couldn’t wait to be a fifth grader!  These students ruled the school!  They could wear makeup and the girls wore bras!   

Inside the horseshoe-shaped restroom, I encountered two goddesses—real and beautiful and tall and intimidating and scary and fifth grade girls.  They glared at me; said, “Get out of here little first grader!”  And, I did!  I left!  But not all of me left; you see, this was one of those times when I really needed to use the restroom.  And, I did.  Down the leg of my pants and into my blue sneakers and trickling on the floor, I left.  The goddesses just laughed and laughed.   

Dejected, I walked, bowlegged to avoid the cold and the stinging to my teacher, who said, “Oh, honey, let’s get you to the nurse.”  There I sat, in borrowed clothing until my mom, pulled from an important business meeting at her important job, came to collect me.  She drove me home as I cried where a hot bubble bath waited for me to help me reclaim my dignity. 
 

Blue Green Ridge