context... doesn't matter if it's in or out

the other day...

"is that your schoolbus?"

nobody had ever asked me that before. do i look like a schoolbus driver? "um, no," i responded. but what i wanted to say was, "i got a great deal." i often want to say things but don't.

in 3rd grade i wore a skirt to school on a gym day. i hoped i would be allowed to sit out the class, but the over-zealous gym teacher made me do the activities she thought weren't threatening to a skirted tot. i remember getting in line to roll on the mat... you know, try to roll in a straight line. stupid. i'd been rolling down hills for years. so i rolled... and the further i rolled, the further up my legs my dress rolled. eventually, my tot tush was exposed - hidden - exposed - hidden - exposed until i reached the end of the mat. i didn't realize this until i got up and had to pull my skirt down... from my midchest.

later that year i wore tights to school. during the day they started to become uncomfortable, so i took them off in the bathroom during a break and conveniently stored them in my flip-top desk... or so i thought. before the teacher resumed the lesson again, she held up a pair of tights and asked, "is anyone missing these?" tights. who needs them? i didn't like them anyway. i wonder if my mom even noticed i came home bare-legged.

hans was the weird boy in class. he smelled of pee and syrup. and his name was hans. boys used to put tacks on his chair. one day our class went outside during an object lesson and had to form a circle holding hands. i somehow found myself next to hans, and in a panic tried to force my way between already clenched hands of other students... who wouldn't budge. noticing this minor commotion, the teacher came over and took my hand, walked me to hans, and put my hand in his. it was clammy. i wanted to shout to the heavens, "why? why me?" but i stood scowling with as limp a clasp as i could manage while still maintaining the appearance of holding hands with hans.

tara was cool, cute and sassy. we were friends, and i wanted to be like her. she had this matching shirt and short set... white with a cat motif that sparkled. i didn't own any white outfits. white was so becomming, so unexpected. every time she wore it, i coveted the outfit more. i noticed when she stopped wearing it. i thought, and then... "hey tara, you know that white outfit you have? if you don't want it anymore, i'll take it." i did. i asked her for it. she said no.

do i own a schoolbus... riiight. those were good times, though. and it makes me think, "man, i never thought i'd be driving one of these things."