1st detention

When I received my first detention, my mom took me to the five and ten like I was some big winner.

“Here baby, ten bucks, go buy yourself a present. It’s not your fault.”

Another example why I grow up to be a savage.

It happened in fourth grade. My first detention in a catholic school. Mrs. Cheeser told us we would not need our text books for that day the class earlier. During the class, she asked us to refer to our text books and of course I opened my big mouth. “You told us not to bring the book, that is not fair.”

My big mouth.

Cheeser gave me the detention because I called her out in front of the class. Did I mention she was the grossest and smelliest teacher in the school? Fuckin bitch. I never quite understood women that walked around with holes in their stockings and stains on their shirts.

I cried in the car when my mom picked me up. The detention embarrassed me because I did not understand how I was wrong. I have always been a truth seeker. It just takes me awhile to realize that everyone holds a different view point of the truth.

Technically Cheeser’s detention doesn’t even count as my first detention, just my first official paper pink slip detention. I attended St. Regis since day one of kindergarden. I clearly remember getting kicked out of the reading circle at least once a week.