When I was 12 – I had no boobs, to speak of. I know, I know – – hard to imagine if you’ve seen the smiley face picture, but it’s the honest truth.
We had just gone through the 5th grade ‘Health Education’ class – ya know the one, where the boys go off and learn how to pronounce vagina and girls go off and get their special kit full of special things for those special days.
Anyway – being an idiot pre-teenager who was in love with the likes of Shawn Cassidy and Leif Garrett (if you remember them, you’re as old as me!) I did a dumb thing that only a pre-teenager could do.
I stuffed my bra.
How embarrassing, in retrospect – but I did. Not a whole lot – – just one nylon knee-hi sock in each side to give myself a little shove out of the itty-bitty-titty-committee, ya know?
So, things were going a long just fine that day. I was walking around, going to classes – – ya know, enjoying my new look. Amazing what a pair of tits – even as small as nylon knee-hi’s can do for a 12 year-old’s confidence level.
I had a science presentation to do that day. Nothing brain shattering, I even remember the topic. I did an erosion project where I brought in three different mason jars full of different kinds of sediment (sand, dirt and rocks). I spent 30 days tracking the erosion levels in each…blah blah blah.
Anyways, I had to go up in front of the entire class and present my erosion project. Being the usual klutz that I am (I lost the knee-hi’s, grew some tits – – but kept the klutziness) – I dropped one of my mason jars. It didn’t break, or anything like that – – it just rolled across the floor.
I scrambled to pick it up and move on with my presentation – – my teacher, Mr. Zarling – came across the room to help me with this. Seeing my obvious struggles – he bent down to pick up the jar at the same time as I bent down to pick it up – – and we banged heads pretty hard. So much so that I lost my balance and fell over.
Sounds bad enough, doesn’t it? That, alone, would cause this pre-teenager some embarrassment. But it gets so much worse than that . . .
I was wearing a button-down, oxford shirt that day. Nothing underneath it except a ill-fitting bra and my knee-hi’s. A button on the shirt caught on the wire from my notebook, and the button popped off the shirt. The shirt popped open just enough for one of my knee-hi’s to come falling out, onto the floor. It fell right next to the Mason jar….which just happened to be at the feet of my science teacher, Mr. Zarling.
Ok – I don’t have to re-live the horrendous feeling of embarrassment – I’m sure you get the big picture here.
My reason for remembering this incident that should have been tucked way, way, way far away in the back recesses of my mind — never ever to be brought out into the light of day ever again?
Because, on Monday, I have a parent-teacher conference with my son’s science teacher.