rut roh

I think she was my first crush. Well, no. That's not true. Davey Leineweaver was my first crush. I used to place my 5-year-old self on the street corner in front of my house and watch him play across the way. Until he threw sawdust in my little brother's face. I hated Davey after that. But I digress.

First crush or not, I did love Mrs. Wright. She was my 2nd Grade teacher, and I thought she was so GLAMOROUS and BEAUTIFUL. And to top it off, she was so incredibly NICE - soft-spoken, encouraging, but authoritative at the same time. I loved her. LOVED her. Her classroom was decorated with bright yellow smiley faces everywhere you looked. The clock was a smiley face - I remember that specifically. On Fridays, we played Bingo, and the prizes were pieces of Super Bubble bubble gum. She had a huge container of it underneath her desk.

I was shy in 2nd Grade. No, really, I'm serious! I was PAINfully shy. (Decided in 8th Grade that life would never be fun if I didn't come out of my shell.... so I came out and never looked back.) But in second grade, I was so shy - and so in love with Mrs. Wright - that I wouldn't even ask permission to go to the restroom. Instead, I sat at my desk and wet my pants. Twice. Maybe three times. I still feel the heat in my cheeks when I remember how humiated I was. Even so... it was too much to consider asking permission.

At some point, my mother got tired of bringing new clothes up to the school, so she and Mrs. Wright cooked up a plan. Folded neatly in a brown paper bag in my locker at the back of the classroom was an outfit. A green jumpsuit. A double-knit green jumpsuit. A HANDMADE, puke-green, double knit pantsuit that I ABHORRED. I cried every time Mom made me wear that horrendous monstrosity of an outfit. So she thought it'd be the perfect thing for my locker. The new rule was, I'd have to change in to THAT if I wet my pants again. It fixed me. From that day on, I found the courage to ask to go potty.

I may have to check eBay for a comparably horrendous double-knit jumpsuit for Ian, 'cause today, I got a call from the school nurse, who had Ian in her office. With soiled pants. I asked him later, "Why didn't you ask to go to the bathroom? Were you too shy?" (Ian, you know, is TERRIBLY shy.)

"No," he said. "Well, actually, I was too shy. Because I knew she would say no, because another kid asked to go pee right before I had to poop, and she said no to him, so I knew I couldn't go either."

I'm fairly certain that Ian doesn't have a crush on his teacher. I mean, after all.... Ms. Collins is a GIRL, and Ian hates girls. Which gives me an idea..... I don't need to search for a puke-green double-knit jumpsuit for Ian's locker. Anything pink will do.