Grade 2, The Hatred Continues

Grade 2. Now I am 7. This segment requires a bit of background information: during the all too short 2 months of summer vacation, my family went to Drumheller, Alberta – a major source of authentic dinosaur fossils. While fucking around in the dirt, as 7 year olds will, I found a skull, sort of cat like, but also with a canine look to it. Even at 7, I was not naïve enough to think it was a saber tooth skull, or some previously undiscovered flying reptile, but it was a skull. A real skull. You have to admit; to a 7-year-old boy any skull at all is fucking MassCool! And what better item to bring to school for Show – and – Tell, than an actual, bona-fide SKULL!? When my teacher caught sight of it, she tried to trade me something of hers for the skull. It was a piece of tree – branch that had been chewed by a beaver (“See? You can still see the teeth marks!”). I declined her kind offer to swap a piece of fucking wood for my insanely cool skull, and went on to give a Show – and – Tell performance that I’m sure they’re still talking about today. As we were charging out of class for recess, this teacher, this veritable slice of mature, educated perfection, told me I was not allowed to take my skull outside, as it could become lost or broken, and must leave it safely locked up in the classroom. She would lock the door with the only key that existed for it, and all would be happy elves, rainbows and ‘Archie’s’ songs upon my return. Upon my return, I was approached by the very concerned and troubled looking teacher and told that, although she was in possession of the sole key to the room, someone, somehow, had found a way in and had stolen my skull. She told me she would replace it. “How?” I wanted to know. (I may have been 7, but I wasn’t an idiot). She answered my question by presenting me with the piece of tree – branch that had been chewed by a beaver, ensuring me that it was easily as interesting and “just as good” as my skull. Ok, Sherlock, here we go – A locked room containing an object desired by the only person with a key to that room. The object is stolen, no signs of forced entry, and the victim is compensated with a far crappier, inferior object - the very same object, which had, in fact, just prior to the theft, been unsuccessfully offered in trade for the less crappy, superior one.

Next: The Shocking Truth Behind The Impact That Sunday School, Play-school, and Kindergarten Had On My Attitude Towards Education.

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That's Fucked Up.