i remeber when i was six years old i hated first grade. i would always pretend to be sick when it was time to do what little math we were assigned and i never realted entirly to the other children.
i remeber on morning i wanted desperatly not to go to school so i started bawling hystericly when we arrived, so my mother wouldnt make me go. she pulled me into the bathroom and she told me she was going to go tell the teacher and then we were going to leave. i sighed with relief. so i sat and waited, and waited and about 20 minutes later my teacher appeared in the door way. she told me that my mom had left. my heart sank, i felt betrayed, abandoned. of course like anyother kid of that age i was fine by 12, but there was still a tinge of resentment. but i was a little trooper (prick) and tryed the stunt out a few more times. eventually my mother was so overwhealmed with guilt she would just take me to work with her almost everyday.
maybe ill try that this year.