Wednesday, March 09, 2005

Cookies & Milk

WARNING: STRONG STOMACH NEEDED TO READ THE FOLLOWING POST!!! In kindergarten, everyone took a turn bringing cookies for the class before the afternoon nap. One day, it was Emmett’s turn. I remember taking one bite of the cookie. I think it might have been peanut butter. Suddenly there was a reaction. I don’t remember my stomach feeling bad or a fever or snot. I just knew that I should open my mouth. Out flooded puke. By the time I was finished, I had my weight in puke. The teacher freaked out and told Emmett to bring me a garbage can. Well, not only did Emmett bring me a garbage can, but he stood there and proceeded to watch me puke into the garbage can. I guess he didn’t want me to feel bad for puking, so he joined me. His puking was too disgusting for me to watch, so I decided to take a walk around the classroom. The teacher yelled for everyone to gather in the corner. I made a pretty orange colored border around the room, while Emmett continued to fill the garbage can with his own slime. I was almost to the door when I missed my teacher’s shoe by about an inch. I guess she felt bad for me because she ran out of the door, hand over her mouth, to the girl’s room. At some point I had stopped and our class was moved. The orange dust that grade schools like to use to cover up the vomit of their students quickly attacked the room. By the next day, all that remained was a nice little stain, letting everyone know that they were about to enter a puke-free zone. I made a real splash of a first impression on my little kindergarten class. I don’t know that anyone even dared to puke for the rest of the year. They knew that they couldn’t beat the champ.