From the looks of this damaged photo...seems I went to school in something like 1908...

My dear old sentimental dad showed me a box he found in his basement.

My parents have moved several times since my childhood...

& he's dragged our childhood treasures from place to place in boxes..

He'll never part with them.

Some of the boxes got involved in what looks like a flood.

The stuff started to smell funky.

So we went through it together.

This pic is me in 1st grade.

We'd just moved again.

I had to start a new school in May.

They were almost done with the year (you can see on the right side of the pic...boxes...they were already starting to pack for summer break)...

I was terrified.

My teacher didn't quite get that.

She made me stand in the front of the class & say hello.

It was the single most horrifying moment of my short little life.

My heart beat so loudly I was sure that the other kids could hear it (& see it cartoon-like pounding out of my chest).

My knobby knees shook.

All the other girls wore one ponytail...I had 2 pigtails...they let me know that wasn't the way it was done there.

"Tell the class where you're from"...she said.

"France"...I said...not really trying to be funny (what? I panicked & that's what I came up with...pulled it right out of my ass...I'm guessing).

The teacher just looked at me & made me sit down...she was going to do this whole big deal thing about looking on a map to find where I'd come from...but apparently lying took the air right out of her tires.

The teacher took my photo (was I being punished? Why am I standing in the miniature little kid's closet for the photo?) to put up on the board.

Mine was the only photo up on the new kid freak board.

Some scars don't heal.

By the way...Mrs. Hoffman...

Frog, log & dog do not rhyme in my universe.