by Catherine Poindexter

Created on: September 07, 2009   Last Updated: September 13, 2009

I have always loved school! As far back as I can remember I wanted to be a teacher and would pretend for hours that my stuffed animals were my pupils. I never experienced the "first day of school" panic but I will never forget the first day of my fourth grade school year! Oh what a nightmare. I'll explain. You see this particular school year was to be the first school year that one of my siblings would be attending school with me. I was the eldest child so I was tickled to death to have my younger sister coming to school with me.

The day started off great. My friends and I were catching up on what we all had done for the summer. Each was trying to best the other with tales of our summer antics. My friends and I were standing in what we called the lobby feeling all giddy and superior. After all we were the big kids on campus. Our school only went to the fourth grade. All of a sudden I heard someone crying and realized in an instant that it was my sister. It took me only a few seconds to find her half hiding behind a pillar in the lobby sobbing her eyes out. I asked her why was she crying and why wasn't she in line with the other kindergartners heading for the cafeteria? She said, "I used the bathroom on myself." I was prepared for anything but that. I could handle, "I want to go home" or "Timmy is pulling my hair." I could even handle, "I hurt my knee or "everybody hates me". I wasn't ready for "I pooped by pants!"

I was terrified! This was not in the big sister's handbook. I had to think fast! I didn't want my friends to come over and find out what was going on.Try living that down. I rushed my sister into the girls bathroom. I only had a few minutes to clean her up and get to my class on time. Once I got her into the stall I had another problem. She was wearing leggings and they were soaked with urineand poop! I had to strip her down, wash her off and get her back in line for lunch. Once I got her cleaned off and smelling like hand soap, I let her run back into the lunch line. I was almost done! Dilemma number two, what to do with her under ware and leggings? I didn't know what to do and time was running out. Should I throw them away? My fourth grade brain wouldn't let me discard them because I thought my Mom would be mad. I decided to rinse the items off, wrap and re-wrap them in paper towels, and stuff them in my pencil box! What a bad idea.

Well, I made it to class on time and I thought I had avoided a disaster. A few minutes into the lesson my classmates started saying, " Ooh teacher something stinks!" and "Somebody passed gas!" I was mortified! If the smell was tracked down to my desk I would have to quit school. Thinking on my feet, I ran to my locker in the back of the class and stuck the pencil box in the bottom of it. The comments subsided and I made it through the day without being found out.

When I made it home and told my Mom what had happened she could not believe that I just didn't discard the clothing. She told me that I did a great job and that she was very proud of me for looking out for my sister. She asked me to tell her the story again and I did. That night when my Dad came home she asked me to tell him. The next day she asked me to repeat it to our next door neighbor and I remember thinking, "Wow Mom is really, really proud of me!" She may have been proud of me but she also got a big kick out of the story. Years later she told me that she still giggles when she thinks of that story.

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