I read a really funny, funny... well... I read this article this morning and it got me thinking. It reminded me of the second grade. And, before you start asking me why I have correlated the "sex talk" with second grade... eh... never mind.

I became ill with the chickenpox and I felt like dog shit. I had NEVER missed a day of school before, and I loved school, so when the teacher and principal hauled me into their office I began crying. I couldn't understand why they were towering over me and probing me with questions. They tossed out massive words at me like "infirm" and "peaked" oh! and "vomit." Vomit was the tailspin word, I heard those big HUGE words and began to cry, all I could think was mom's gonna be so mad at me.

The principal asked me if I felt like I was going to vomit. She didn't ask if I felt sick, or pukey, or yucky, and she didn't ask if my tummy hurt. I had no fucking idea what THAT word meant! So I said yes. And it was like a fucking bomb went off... in seconds the nurse, principal, and my teacher were scrambling around the office grabbing garbage cans and fumbling with the phone and... this was all very traumatic for me. Sitting there on that little padded bench watching them grab blankets, buckets, and then... then they started feeling around my head. Pressing their hands to my forehead, looking inside my ears, and they spoke in this foreign language of giant words, and holy crap, I just want my mom!

Eventually my mom arrived, and when I spotted her in the doorway I began to cry uncontrollably and profess my plea for lenience. She chuckled lightly and told me I was sick.

...I am?