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May 15, 2008


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Jenn @ Juggling Life

The 70's were really not a kinder, gentler time for kids were they?


Oops. I think I meant SCARRED. (Is that right?) As in traumatized. Not frightened. I think that's how you spell it ... ugh -- it's late and it's not showing up in my Word dictionary.

Carry on.


Oh, poor thing. I don't remember ever peeing, but I DID barf. A LOT. Those spontaneous, out of nowhere, uh, events, scared me for life.

You are an AMAZING writer. I want to BE you.

Bob Cleveland

Reading this blog, at times, reminds me of my high school days, when we peeked through this secret hole in the wall, into the girls' showe.....

Uhhh ....

Never mind.


Hey, Foolery--

You are FUNNY! (Well, I am sure you know that.) I've been visiting and am still laughing about the "banana suit" you wore on your first date.

(I clicked over from BOSSY'S.)


poor dear. i think we've all had that moment, whether we peed or puked. of course, with the latter, the janitor came out with that sawdust stuff (what the hell WAS it, anyway?) and it seemed like a bigger production.

not that i know much about that, of course ;-)


Traumatized much? Lord, Bossy hopes this woman lost her license. Driving and teaching.

madame x

If anyone ever tells you that Madame x had a little Nellie Olson/Michelle in her as a six year old

do not believe them

Ok, Where Was I?

Totally fab story. How well told. When I saw the words "first grade," I immediately thought of the time I peed my pants--or rather catholic school uniform--in first grade. I thought it was going to be a post about something Smedley had done, so I'm laughing now that it's the same memory I have. That is one of only two or three things I can remember from first grade. And like you, I cannot remember what happened next.

Grandma J

Oh how childhood memories can sting years later! As a product of parochial schools I have some whoppers of my own. Nothing to do with bodily functions, because as much as I hate to admit it? I was probably a "Michelle" in kindergarten. A stain on my soul that will be there forever, I'm sure.


Mrs. Matlock, 6th grade, atleast 75, purple dress, ugly cleavage and MEAN! She made us sit with legs together and feet on floor and if they wouldn't..me a little short one...she piled up books. Evil, she was, just plain evil. She hated me and I returned the favor...SHE MURDERED A MOUSE IN THE GIRL'S ROOM!
Thanks for the memory ROFL


You know, this is a sort of universal experience...? My first school kept a lost-and-found, and I distinctly remember having to wear a pair of boy's underwear (clean, thank the gods!) because I had a similar...er...incident...when I was perhaps five or six, and there wasn't any girl's underwear to be had. I may even have been wearing Wonder Woman Underoos at the time...

Poor baby...I always want to go give teacher some version of the Uncle Buck speech (You know the scene) when I hear stories like this.

Shade and Sweetwater,


Heartwrenching. Reminds me of the time I couldn't make it into the house while playing outside. Fortunately, I was wearing a dress. After I wet my pants, I just slipped off the underwear and threw them in a ditch at the edge of the yard. Then I nonchalantly walked into the house and put on clean ones. My mother found the offending ones a year or so later while gardening. I pretended not to know anything about them. :)

Mental P Mama

That is a sweet story. I did the same thing, and also twice outside when I couldn't get in the house. To this day, I do not like a public restroom. At all. Bless your heart, I am so mad at that teacher.

Chesapeake Bay Woman

Well, if it makes you feel any better, I did the same thing in kindergarten. And I blacked out at the exact same time you did, no memory of what happened afterwards.

Another time when I was older, it happened again. I got off the bus and walked down our long lane to our house. For some reason, my mother decided to lock the doors (we never do that around here). I knocked on the door a million times and screamed because I had to go. By the time my mother finally did make it to the door, all she saw was me, angry, amidst a cloud of steam. (It was cold that day.)

Oh, the horrors.

Great story!

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