Picture from here
I would write about the first day of kindergarten, except I don’t remember that. I’m assuming on the first day of kindergarten I came home and didn’t like it very much. On the second day however it was a different story. I remember my mother driving me to school and parking up near the door. For some reason, I was late to school (on my second day ever – thanks mom), and I didn’t want to go in. I was kicking and screaming and refusing to leave the car.
Eventually, my mother went in to get the teacher to help remove me from the car. Even my five-year-old mind realized that though our house was only a half mile up the road I couldn’t walk it by myself because of traffic (I rationalized this at 5 yet didn’t know my address until fifth grade – go figure). Since I couldn’t walk home and I didn’t want to go to school what was I going to do? I decided hiding was the best scenario (I’ve always been excellent at hiding). First I looked at the bushes and realized they wouldn’t provide adequate cover. Then my eye glanced towards the double doors. They were propped open to gain the benefit of the warm outdoors. I dove quickly out of the car and rushed behind the double doors.
A few seconds later the teacher and my mother come outside to remove me from the family car. At first, my mother freaked out since I wasn’t in the car, then they started to look for me. I seem to remember them taking a couple of minutes to look for me, and eventually, they found me. They attempted to drag me out from behind the door, but I grabbed the door and they pulled me vertically. Eventually, they got me free and dragged me to the door of the classroom. I was screaming, crying, and clawing to get away the whole way there. I walked in all stoic and straight-faced, though I’m sure my face was tear-stained and flushed.
It seems that even at that young age, after one day I realized how messed up our education system was and didn’t want to go back. I think if it hadn’t been so exposed and out of the open I may have made the break for the half-mile walk home. I obviously had some strange and much older rational than my years at such a young age.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised when my wife still thinks I can be a sneaky bastard sometimes.
