This was the class I "liked" so much that one day, when my mom dropped me off in front of school, I just stood there as she drove away and looked at the school. I couldn't take another day. I turned, and instead of going in for another day of wholesome finger painting and paste eating, I walked a mile and a half home. Mom didn't buy my excuse of a minimum day, and took me back, this time escorting me to the classroom door, so further adventure wasn't possible.
Once I did much the same thing. Mother had impressed me with the fact that I was arriving at school late (she drove me there.) My overactive imagination immediately painted the picture: I walk in late, the whole class looks at me, I have to say I'm sorry for being late- no. Just no.
ReplyDeleteI walked about a mile back home, and hid in the basement. I got really cold, and eventually Mother found me when I made some noise trying to stay warm. By then it was too late, so I didn't have to go back that day.
Your fears were exactly what happened to me. When escorted to the classroom door by my furious mother, all the class and the teacher turned and looked at me as I came in, young criminal that I presumed myself to now be. Since then, I've reformed my ways, and now I'm good (wink).
DeleteHeh, it would have been a 5 mile walk for me. And if I made it home; my dad would have had me cleaning out calf pens! School was so much better smelling!
DeleteSteve