Reunion

Last night I went with The Hubby to his junior high school reunion. Yes I said junior high. It was really fun and after being married to him for 33 years I knew a few people. It was at one of the classmates very nice ranch very high up on a hill, outside. HOT! There were about 35 or 37 people there, some spouses, mwaaaa. There were a lot of year books floating around and stories much like I have heard at my reunions. The Hubby had a great time seeing some people that he had not seen in 38 years. Some of the classmates went to different high schools so they had not been a part of the high school reunions. Kind of makes me yearn for my junior high but those years were horrible for me. I remember being in tears most of the time and hating the whole experience. Mother Nature came into my life then. I had my first love, first kiss and first breakup. A lot of tears were shed from my 7th grade to 9th grade. I also had the two of the most embarrassing moments in my life in those years.

The first was the very first day of 7th grade. In those early years you could only wear matching pantsuits or dresses to school. The dresses had to be 3 inches from the middle of the knee to the hem, they measured. You had to wear hose back then but pantyhose had not been invented yet. It was garter belts and nylons that ran at the touch of a finger. That first day I walked to school in my new dress all the way down Main Street. We lived on Main Street about 4 blocks away from the school. I entered the doors of the junior high my father attended and was ushered into the gym, girls on the left and guys on the right. The rickety wooden bleachers were pulled out and filled with kids. The only place left to sit was close to the top of the bleachers. I nervously but my foot on the bleacher seat and climbed to the top in my new dress and sat, waiting for the beginning bell. It was a cacophony of children voices laughing and yelling and nervously talking. The bell finally rang and the students started filing out of the gym. I stood, looked down and took my first couple of careful steps to the gym floor. Next to the last step down I slipped and slid down to the floor, landing with my legs spread out, my dress pulled up facing the gym full of 13-15 year old boys across the room. Laughter erupted and I was mortally embarrassed. That was my first day of 3 years of HELL!

The second incident was just as public. I was in my 7th grade art class, the last class of the day in my very nice white dress when I felt a little strange but just attributed it to the heat and no air conditioning. The school bell rang for the end of the day and I was ready to make the walk, down Main Street to home. My textbooks in my arms, I proceeded to walk the 4 blocks uneventfully, I thought. I reached the front door, went inside and hurriedly took off my school clothes to discover that Mother Nature had visited me for the very first time and left her imprint on the backside of my beautiful white dress. The realization hit me, I had walked all the way down Main Street with that on my backside and NO ONE TOLD ME! I was in tears and so embarrassed that I didn't want to go to school again.

The point of these two tales is that I'm not sure I want to revisit those junior high years again, can you blame me.