I told you recently that I was spoiled as a child.  My recent encounter with CBR reminded me of the time that I beat up a little boy in second grade.  Don’t judge me just yet.  Let me explain.

My grandmother, the Preacher’s mother, was a very interesting woman.  She was intelligent, funny, strong and independently wealthy.  She worked hard for what she had and she wasn’t afraid to show it off.  When I picture her back in the days when I was growing up I see a classy woman with big hair, big jewelry, big cars, and lots of big fur coats.  In Alabama there is at best only one week a year when it is cold enough to actually wear a fur coat.  That didn’t stop her from having a closet full of beautiful fur coats though.

When I was seven years old my grandmother bought me a rabbit fur bomber jacket for Christmas.  I was so excited and proudly pranced around in it during the Christmas holidays.  When it was time to go back to school I just had to wear it on my first day back.  How many other seven-year-olds do you know with fur coats?  I’m guessing not many.  So I got on the bus that cold winter morning, all wrapped up in my pretty rabbit fur coat, and headed off to second grade.

When the bus got to the school I got out of my seat and walked up to the front of the bus.  I started down the steps and as I reached the last one before stepping onto the cold muddy ground, I was pushed from behind.  Down into the mud I went.  After the shock wore off and I stood back up, I quickly turned around and there stood Corey.  My 2nd grade arch nemesis.

Corey was a small boy in my class.  He had poofy blond hair and always had a twinkle in his eye when he saw me, but he hardly ever talked to me.  I was furious.  I’m sure my red hair was glowing neon orange due to the sunlight and the rage in my soul at the time.

I tried to dust my coat off before heading to class, but it was covered in mud and I just knew that someone was going to have to pay for this crime.  I stayed cool though.  I didn’t let Corey on to the fact that I wanted to kill him right then and there.  I gave him a single dirty look, but I had bigger plans for him.

I went to class and did my school work as usual.  Then came recess.  The teacher went out of the room and it was on.  I gathered my group of minions and we cornered poor little Corey.  I used him as a punching back for about thirty seconds and then we had to disperse because our lookout told us that the teacher was on her way back to the classroom.  I doubt that I hit him that hard.  It definitely wasn’t hard enough to make him cry or anything.  However, he did steer clear of me for the rest of the school year.

I have thought about that day a few times since then and always felt a little guilty for what I did.  So, Corey, if you’re out there, I’m sorry.  You still owe my mom for the dry cleaning though.  😉

Happy humping!

P.S.  I’m going away for a few days.  We’re going to pick up Little Bubba from the Preacher’s and mom’s house.  Wish sis & I luck and pray that we don’t kill each other on the 7 hour drive there. 🙂