In Which Our Author Something Something Childhood Something

The whole topic is "When someone mentions childhood, what one memory pops into your head? Explain in detail." I'm going to ignore the word "one" and write about a series of related memories. Just try to stop me.

Most of the defining moments of my childhood, the ones that didn't take place at home anyway, took place during fourth and fifth grade, when I had class in the Merit Program. They gave a test to everyone in the school district, and those that scored high enough were placed in a special class for two years, at Watson Elementary. We rode a special bus by ourselves to get to and from school, our classroom was on the opposite side of the building from everyone else, and we wore extra special gold stars sewn into our clothing. That was two truths and a lie. Still, most elementary school kids do not need help being ostracized and harassed, but our school board was kind enough to give us a hand. We were the most hated kids in the school. Even the kids who ate boogers were higher on the social ladder than we were. Except the kid in the Merit Class who ate boogers. No one liked him. He was my best friend.

Specific memories include the time we played soccer against the rest of the school, and someone accused my friend (not the booger-eating one) of "saying a bad word." The recess aides, who liked us about as much as anyone else, took this accusation very seriously. Within minutes, the soccer game morphed into a bizarre Kafka-esque courtroom scene, with me as counsel for the defense, trying to argue my friend out of the death sentence. I mean, the standing on the wall sentence.

Speaking of dramatic courtroom scenes, a year later, in fifth grade, we made a mock classroom government. I was chief justice of the Supreme Court. One day, I was accused by someone else in the class of working on homework when I was supposed to be watching a video. I had to write a dramatic apology about my abuse of power. There was also a scathing election scandal when the popular, handsome front runner for President rolled his eyes during the plucky underdog's speech. This led to the election of the mediocre, lackadaisical middle candidate. That was a disaster.

And that's how I define my childhood. Normal, mediocre moments apotheosized to dramatic and life-changing events. I guess that's what this blawgg is about, though. Insignificant stories made interesting. See you in an hour!