An Acrobat Makes It to Kindergarten

The neighbor youngsters are off to school and my own grown children are starting college today.  Of course, it makes me wonder where another summer has gone.  Even more so, it conjures up memories of my own days in school.  It’s amazing how many snippets that I recall.

I can remember kindergarten like it was yesterday, probably because I nearly missed the first day.  Three days before the start of classes, I had seen an acrobat doing flips on a trampoline on TV.  Off I skipped to Mom and Dad’s bed (it was the largest in the house, after all) and attempted to repeat the acts I had seen on the screen.

After a couple of unsuccessful attempts, I finally made it a successful 180 degrees to land directly on the top of my head, spraining my neck.  I’ll make the story short by saying I ended up in the county hospital where they strung me up in a contraption that was to keep my neck straight.  Having been made for an adult, not a five-year-old wannabe gymnast, the straps ended up around my nose three-quarters of the time.  

The good news about all of this is that it helped me to remember my first day of afternoon kindergarten.  It helped to have been thrown into the stress of a discharge on the same morning of the biggest day in a child’s life.  I remember the exact dress I wore (a red plaid one with a white collar (to attempt to make me look innocent, I’m sure) and the noon meal I had (Campbell’s tomato soup) before getting on my first ever bus ride. 

Kindergarten in and of itself is worth a large section of my brain’s memory mass.  Like half of my hometown, I had a sweet-as-honey teacher with a hair bun named Mrs. Schultz.   She was loaded with smiles and kisses.  A lot of wet kisses, come to think of it.  To her advantage, she never had to get down on her knees to talk to us.  I think she might have been shorter than some of my classmates, although this might only be my silly recollection.

Even at that young age, I loved to write.  I especially loved writing plays for my Barbie dolls.  Spelling was not my mother’s favorite class, so she was undoubtedly overjoyed to pass this opportunity of spelling every other word in my plays on to a teacher. 

My sister taught me how to write my name in cursive, and I couldn’t wait to show Mrs. Schultz.  Her eyes twinkled and she leaned forward over her desk to plant a very wet kiss on my cheek.  It was nice and gross, all at the same time.

I made my first kindergarten best friend in the corner where you could string together necklaces. I still sing praises to Mrs. Schultz for providing a station for the crafters in the class.  I would go back to kindergarten now just for this.  Marilyn and I would have strung together cut pieces of straw, colorful buttons, and pasta on string all day had we been allowed.

I also remember sitting down on the floor to sing songs in front of the piano.  I especially recall one incident when another close friend ended up in the corner because she kept spinning on the floor on her rear end while sitting Indian style.

Now I look back and think Mrs. Schultz should have had Patty demonstrate her talents to all of us instead of disciplining her for it.  Most people can sing Itsy Bitsy Spider, but –seriously—how many people can sit perfectly cross-legged, much less spin around doing it while singing?  We would have been the best exercised, most limber kindergarteners in the United States of America.  Nowadays, we could have been on America’s Got Talent or had own singing stint on Glee.

Show and tell was another favorite part of my day.  I don’t remember any item that I personally brought in, but several treasures my friends did.    These were the days we still marveled at smooth rocks, pine cones, and pictures of kittens.  Part of me wishes I could still have Show and Tell today.  I would fly my mom in to tell a joke or two, and then have her show everyone how to sit Indian style and spin around on her rear end while singing a song.

Good luck with that, Mom.  I promise I won’t stick you in the naughty corner.  Instead I’ll reward you and we’ll go make some straw necklaces before having tomato soup for lunch.  This time we’ll skip doing flips on the bed, if it’s okay with you.