My Favorite Subject

This is me in the first grade. Don't you just love the plaid jumper and hair curl vaguely resembling Princess Leah's side buns? First grade was actually a very exciting time for me. Not only was it the start of my elementary school journey, but also the same year that the grade school I was attending, Rushwood, first opened. It was still bright and shiny, no vomit or crayon stains on the carpet, and the paint on the walls smelled fresh and new.

I distinctly remember hopping off the bus after my first day and walking home with my two older sisters, Kathy and Laura. As we strolled through our front door, Mom greeted us and specifically approached me to find out how the day had gone.

After hearing about my teacher and the names of all the new friends I'd made, Mom asked, "So, what was your favorite subject?" Without hesitation, I smiled at my Mom, looked her straight in the eye and with complete seriousness, replied, "LUNCH!!"

Now, I must explain that I was not an overweight child, and it certainly wasn't the meal my mother had prepared for me (a grape jelly sandwich on white bread, apple, and three Oreo cookies. Every. Day.), that made me favor this particular "subject."

It was my awesome lunchbox! It was a Dawn lunchbox. Not "beginning-of-a-new-day" dawn, mind you. I'm referring to Dawn, the 6" doll from the late 60's and early 70's. Never heard of her? I'm not surprised! Her popularity was pretty short-lived. Dawn was similar to Barbie, except that she was a bit smaller in stature, had a much less ample, pointy bosom, and looked much more "hippie-ish" than the fashion-conscious Barbie. But I was really into her!

When it cam time to pick out my lunchbox the summer before first grade, I was elated when I found the cool, vinyl, yellow-cupped-thermos-included DAWN lunchbox! It was glorious! The days before school started, I spent HOURS opening and closing it's clasp, taking out the thermos, and pouring imaginary liquid into that gorgeous yellow cup. I couldn't WAIT for the day I would actually be "going live" and consuming real food and drink from it's interior!!

Grandma Simmons stopped by for a visit and I proudly showed her my new treasure. She appropriately "oohed" and "ahhed" at the groovy outer artwork and amazing plastic yellow cup. Then she unscrewed the cap of the thermos and peered inside. "Hmm," she murmured disapprovingly, "this concerns me."

 When I asked what was wrong, Grandma informed me that the inside was made of glass (yes, I'm very old. This was before kid's thermoses were constructed of the infinitely-safer pure plastic!). She said she worried that if I dropped it, the inside would shatter and I'd have dangerous shards of glass stabbing my mouth when I drank the milk inside.  I was mortified! She told me not to worry, just to remember to sip my milk with pursed lips, instead of taking big gulps (I actually PRACTICED this technique!).

Then there was my father's advice. I promise I am NOT making this up when I tell you that he pulled me aside before the first day of school and instructed me not to accept any food from the other children at lunchtime. He said that you never knew, there could be POISON in it!! That's right. My paranoid, insane Dad actually believed that a fellow six year old may somehow devise a plan to lace a Hostess Ding Dong with arsenic and I would die, never to see second grade!

I was concerned by these warnings, obviously, but I wasn't overly worried. Because both of my older sisters would be at school WITH me. In fact, Laura was only one year older than I, and since we were in the same "cluster" together, (grades 1-3), we knew we'd be eating during the same lunch period. Laura would protect me.

The morning of my first day flew by in a whirlwind of bus-riding, name tag-applying, and homeroom teacher-meeting. Soon, it was time to line up to head to the gymnasium/cafeteria for the highly anticipated LUNCHTIME!! I could barely contain my excitement!

Laura, because she was older and wiser (and extremely bossy), instructed me to be the very first in line for my class. She would then take her place at the very BACK of her class line, so that when the two lines merged, we'd be next to each other. This sounded good to me.

Except that I soon learned that EVERYONE wants to be first in line. I was pushed back somewhere to the middle, and before I knew it, we were filing out, and Laura was way up there, several children ahead of me.

Suddenly, thoughts of arsenic-laced fruit cups and glass shard-filled thermoses enveloped my brain. This all seemed surmountable when I knew bossy Laura would be by my side. But now, with her far, far ahead of me, I felt terribly alone. I panicked. I began to bawl. Loudly. Imagine the great first impression I was making on my new classmates!

The teachers, no doubt alarmed by the sudden, intense, high-pitched wail, raced to see who exactly was being murdered back in the line of first graders. They approached, knelt in front of me, and asked what was wrong.

They couldn't quite make out the "I don't want to be poisoned or bleed from my mouth" rantings, but they were, thankfully, able to understand my pleadings for my sister. They retrieved (the now mortified) Laura, who grabbed my hand and led me to her place in line. Just like that, everything was TERRIFIC!

Seated together at the long lunch table with the attached stools, I finally, joyfully opened my precious hippie lunch box and consumed it's jelly-soaked contents. I'm happy to report that we managed to survive without any incident of poisoning or mouth stabbing! Also, my awesome, thoughtful teacher made sure that every lunch period, from that day forward, I had a seat next to my bossy protector. Lunch was, without a shadow of a doubt, my favorite subject!

Funny how some things never change as you get older...

Thanks for Reading!!