The good old days,

Okay so I’m only 16 but life definitely hasn’t always been easy. There was a period of time that I can look back on that seemed pretty fabulous. After the departure of my beautiful sister, Mary, when I was in grade three, I lived a pretty splendid life. I can’t say I really remember every moment of these good three years. But I had nothing to worry about, I took dance class, I was a smart student, I had a great best friend. I loved reading and writing and I could be myself. Looking back at pictures of myself from those years I cringe. My clothing choices were insane. I couldn’t be a normal kid and a sweater and jeans, no I to wear colourful vests and crazy hair bows. At one point I even died part of my hair electric green. I liked being loud and different. I didn’t want to fit in with everyone else. I didn’t need to impress anybody, especially not any boys. Now saying that I still had an interest in boys. I guess my crush switched back and forth between Toby and Will through most of elementary school. Nothing ever really happened with them because we were only like 10. 

The funniest occurrence happened when I was in grade 5. A new boy arrived at our school that year. He was short and annoying and nothing I would ever like in a boy. But for some reason he had a huge crush on me. Some much so that when he bought a ring pop one time he said it was me and pretended to make out with it. Or this other time he was running down the hall, around a corner, and ran into me. He bit he tongue so hard that he bit right through it and had to get stitches. But the story he told everyone was that we were making out and his tongue got caught in my braces. And we were 10 years old!! He horrified me. But not only did he have an obsession with me he also was the cockiest kid I ever met. He claimed to be amazing at every sport. He played soccer and was being scouted, he had a black belt in karate, and he played travel hockey. Of course none of us believed him. And at one point I got so fed up with all his bragging that I wanted to put him to the test. It was in the winter time and our school had an ice rink made in the back by the playground. Our class was going for a skate and I asked the boy if he wanted to race down the ice. Of course he played travel hockey so it couldn’t be hard for him to be me on my little figure skates right? Wrong. Within the first two seconds of skating he slipped and fell on his face, and I won. After being cheered for by all the grade 5s, the boy had to come up to me and say it wasn’t a fair race because his skates weren’t sharp and that we should really re-do it. But at that point in my head, I had already won.

 From grade 3-6 I have the greatest memories but then it all went crashing down.