Tag Archives: real

Stories From A Third Grade Girl: with something to prove, if nothing else, to herself. (Part Five Fiasco)

Personal Photo of me as a kid

I so desperately wanted to get back to third grade. I did everything in my little -big girl power to show Mr. Luna. I handed in my math homework on time. This time without any ketchup, mustard or hot sauce stains. Hey no judgement please! I even washed the dishes.

However, the only way to do homework was over a bowl of tomato soup and sometimes if I’m lucky spicy grilled cheese. Of course I added the hot sauce. My big-haired sister complained. “Mama Krissy’s using all the hot sauce again.” To that mama would answer, “I better have enough for my spicy fried chicken!” I quickly put away mama’s special hot sauce and finished multiplying by two’s.

Yes homework was a breeze but reading to kids my own age was terrifying. Somehow I got up in front of the whole class everyday, like I knew what I was doing.

Mr. Luna finally caved-in about half-way through the second grading period and welcomed me back to class.

O’h was I over the moon and back again. So much so, I volunteered to staple all the Holiday Papers for Christmas break. Mr. Luna gave out a serious warning “Krissy with so many papers to staple, be extremely careful.”

There I was watching the clock, could 2:45 pm go any faster? Never mind that! I had four stacks of paper to staple and deliver to every student by 3:05 pm. Christopher Jones shouted “there’s no way she’s gonna finish in time!

Thoughts started jumping in and out my head o’ he’s so-o-o- right. What was I thinking? That’s the thing, I wasn’t thinking. I had to be miss goody two-shoe. Staple everybody ‘s paper and now I’m in deep water.

I turned my head for a split second, to say something back to Christopher Jones. Before I could muster up a smart remark. I heard a very loud crunch. I look down. I didn’t start freaking out right away. Its just when the paper and my thumb started bleeding.

Mr. Luna had no words, just pointed me toward the door. I knew I’d blew it. There I was sitting in the nurse’s office. Mrs. Polk, the nurse, had glasses that hung off the edge of her pointy nose. She said, “what is it this time? I stapled my thumb. Mrs. Polk snickered “Krissy, I’m not even a bit surprised, you’ll live.” And it turns out, staples go straight through thumbs if your not careful.

P.S. If you’d stayed all the way till the end, from my heart to yours, thank you. And if you’d like to know what happens next stay tune,

I’ll be back with more stories from my real life third grade childhood.

your Kindness sister Krissy.

Stories From a Third Grade Girl: with something to prove, if nothing else, to herself (part three)

(childhood photo of me)

There I was walking back into the third grade with my head held high. I’d made up in my mind. I was going to plead my case with Mr. Luna to let me back into 3rd grade. I didn’t quite have a plan. Yet I was determine put a zip lock on my lips, throw away the key- so help me God.

Okay not really but I’d said my prayers. Hey! I’m working on it. Anyhow, with all kinds of feelings like Chimpanzees swinging through corridors and frogs leaping over my head. Even my baby rabbit, Honey joined in. Even Honey didn’t believe. I’d last one whole day, keeping my- my-mouth shut.

The minute I made it back to Mr. Luna’s class the bell rang to go home. I walked toward Mr. Luna’s desk. I waited until he’d finished passing out our math homework assignment.

Me: Mr Luna, u-u-m-m-m-m-m, I wanted to say, I’m sorry for being a motor mouth in class. I promised God and Honey, you know my sweet baby rabbit. That if you’d let me stay in 3rd grade. You’ll see I’ve changed.

Mr. Luna: Really in only 24 hrs? Well isn’t that Peter and all 12 disciples walking on the water.

Me: I know I’m no saint, or anything like that.

Mr. Luna: Besides I hear good things from Mrs. Davis. You did a fine job reading to her class. So much so. I’ve decided to let you stay.

Stay! Like forever, forever, like never-ever come back until your old and grey and can’t fit into 3rd grade anymore!

Mr. Luna: By the way I’ve signed you up for the 3rd grade reading club, and the first book is on me. “How To Eat Fried Worms” by Thomas Rockwell

He shoved the book into my hands and said “don’t forget your math homework. See you tomorrow after school.”

After school! I barely made school, now I have to be there after the fire-siren. Which says to me it’s not a fire. Schools out and me too.

Oh’ no! No, no, no!

Mr. Luna yells, down the hall. “Don’t worry Krissy, I’ve already called your mom and told her everything!

That’s just great. Great, great, great! Now I’m death warmed- over for sure and soon to be cold again.

your kindness sister Krissy (true stories from my childhood)

P.S. If that’s okay with you, I’ll be back with the rest of my stories from 3rd grade (hopefully you’ll laugh as much as I have- just remembering the stupidest, weirdest things that happened to me in 3rd grade)

Random Acts Of Me: (no judgment please)

One: I thought I had jumped, into my novel but maybe my novel has sullied my good name -writer. Ha! I say it with a smile. My novel laughs back at me, slaps me around 3:am in the morning. Tells my mother jokes -there was this girl who thought she should write, and then she realized I was her mother, what’s more real the dream or me…

Two: As I thought I would study, learn all the I could about the great spirit- the great God/ but maybe I have learned nothing.

Three: My most fearful thought, is that the world would catch me with my pants down. The belief beyond it, (my darkness out shines my light sometimes ) that truly, it is has happen.

I was in college going through the worst of times, and so my skin tried to get up and walk out on me. Ugh! I darted out class, ran to the nearest bathroom. Pulled down my pants, not going into a stall. My bad! I had to scratch my legs.

And as I was in deep relief of all the stress that college brings. Two girls walked in. Caught off guard I hurried, falling all over that restroom in pieces. Picking up what was left. I washed my hands/dashed out, in tears and laughter, boy o’boy it had to be me (flopping around trying to pull my pants up)

and now you know what a klutz I am…

your kindness sister Krissy P.S. hey at least I’m honest, I’m not that girl anymore! shh for readers only & those with eczema suffers understand