A Resurfaced Memory...Rant
I had a memory re-surface this morning, though I’m not sure what caused it. When I was little (pre-K age), for a short time, I attended a daycare called La Petite Academy…I hated this place with every fiber of my being. The older kids were often jerks, calling me names like “slow poke”, and I did not like the teachers, either, because I thought they came off as bossy and rude. (In case you’re wondering, I didn’t have to go to that place very long. I, shortly after, attended a delightful little at-home preschool! Mrs, Aidy, I still think fondly of you!)
Anyways…there was one day in particular that I was actually excited, because we were going to have the chance to play with paint! The teacher spread this gigantic piece of majestic, white paper in front of me as I sat there, grinning from ear to ear! Then, the ketchup-bottle-shaped containers full of that wondrous, colorful, oozy liquid were placed on the table…
JUST…
out of…
reach.
I could just SMELL the stuff! I longed to grab one and begin squirting it onto the paper with all my might, to show ALL OF THE WORLD what wonders I had hidden in my imagination, just WAITING to escape through the medium of paint!
Then…the unthinkable happened. I saw paint raining down in front of me, onto the paper. As I slowly turned my widening eyes upwards, I saw that the teacher was squirting random designs with the three primary colors onto MY piece of paper!!
“Perhaps, she is merely showing me an example of what I COULD do, and this isn’t my piece of paper. Perhaps MY piece is still coming! Perhaps….”
As I pondered these things to myself, trying not to get upset at the creative outlet that seemed to be slipping from my preschool fingers, the teacher proceeded to fold the paper in half, pressing the paint in between the folds.
Then, she cheerily (and maybe deviously) told me to unfold the paper. I did so. She then cooed and cheered at the artwork I had made! For a moment, I was dumbfounded.
I DIDN’T DO IT!! THIS WAS A LIE!! SHE CHEATED ME OUT OF MY FIRST MASTERPIECE!!!!!!!!!!
If I had KNOWN the word “bullshit” at this point in my life, I surely would have yelled it from the mountaintops!
“Nobody look at this!! Do NOT transfix your gaze onto this fraudulent piece of BULLSHIT!”
Pretty sure I sulked the rest of that day, but my memory begins to get hazy at that point in my memory.
Anyways…there was one day in particular that I was actually excited, because we were going to have the chance to play with paint! The teacher spread this gigantic piece of majestic, white paper in front of me as I sat there, grinning from ear to ear! Then, the ketchup-bottle-shaped containers full of that wondrous, colorful, oozy liquid were placed on the table…
JUST…
out of…
reach.
I could just SMELL the stuff! I longed to grab one and begin squirting it onto the paper with all my might, to show ALL OF THE WORLD what wonders I had hidden in my imagination, just WAITING to escape through the medium of paint!
Then…the unthinkable happened. I saw paint raining down in front of me, onto the paper. As I slowly turned my widening eyes upwards, I saw that the teacher was squirting random designs with the three primary colors onto MY piece of paper!!
“Perhaps, she is merely showing me an example of what I COULD do, and this isn’t my piece of paper. Perhaps MY piece is still coming! Perhaps….”
As I pondered these things to myself, trying not to get upset at the creative outlet that seemed to be slipping from my preschool fingers, the teacher proceeded to fold the paper in half, pressing the paint in between the folds.
Then, she cheerily (and maybe deviously) told me to unfold the paper. I did so. She then cooed and cheered at the artwork I had made! For a moment, I was dumbfounded.
I DIDN’T DO IT!! THIS WAS A LIE!! SHE CHEATED ME OUT OF MY FIRST MASTERPIECE!!!!!!!!!!
If I had KNOWN the word “bullshit” at this point in my life, I surely would have yelled it from the mountaintops!
“Nobody look at this!! Do NOT transfix your gaze onto this fraudulent piece of BULLSHIT!”
Pretty sure I sulked the rest of that day, but my memory begins to get hazy at that point in my memory.