This is a follow-up to Wednesday's entry, so read that first:
For the third serving, I think there should be a picture of said scar. You are proud of it, after all (and rightly so).
Also, did you go to public school the other years? Or another private school? Or homeschool? Or were you a genius that graduated after 8th grade?
One time in my youth, we had not eaten mac and cheese in a while and I wanted some. I couldn't remember the dang name, though, so I described it to Mommer as "little yellow tubes." It was amusing and to this day she still calls it "little yellow tubes."
A loyal commenter,
gRegor
See I grew up saying "mac and chesse" but I also pronounced magazine as "mazagine" for years and my sister and mom just laughed at me. I still slip up and say it sometimes. I guess that what I would get anxiety attacks in New York when I walked past a MAGAZINE stand on the corner.
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August 16, 2010
A third serving would only encourage gluttony, so I think I'll stop with two. Plus, it's more fun to make people squint to see the scar in person.
Schooling history: I did not attend preschool. I entered kindergarten in a public school days before my sixth birthday. I stayed at that school through second grade, after which my parents switched me and my brother to the private school I've been mentioning. It was (and still is) only a K-8 establishment, however, so after graduation, I had the choice to go back to public school or to switch to a private school with a 45-minute commute both ways. I chose the latter, since I was terrified of going from a class of nine to a class of 200. I was valedictorian in 8th grade and should have been in high school, but I really lost myself when I realized at the beginning of senior year that I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life after graduation. The weird funk continued through one year at LeTourneau (private university in Texas), one year of community college, a second year at LeTourneau, a year of no school at all, and three more semesters of community college. THANK GOODNESS I FINALLY FOUND DEVRY'S ONLINE PROGRAM, OR I WOULD BE DOOMED TO FAILING OUT OF COLLEGE COURSES FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.
Bonus Material: A favorite "Rachel as a wee child" story involves me flicking a piece of macaroni (unintentionally) from a spoon onto the back of some guy across the restaurant. He never felt it land on his head, and my parents had to stifle their laughter for the entirety of the meal.