I want to dive into the mind of a kid, starting from Kindergarten and moving on up through the grades. I figured since I now have a pretty good grasp on middle school, and since I went through all thirteen of these grades myself, that I could make some pointed remarks.
I will now share this kid's thoughts with you. He is a representation of many kids, as there is nothing remarkable about him, except perhaps a remarkable affinity toward mediocrity.
Kindergarten
Oh me, oh my. It appears I have not exercised self-control despite the many lessons that Mommy and Daddy have given me inside the lavatory. I suppose I shall tell my teacher that the reason my pants are now sopping wet is that I have urinated in them. Oh my, I best be swift about it or something is bound to come out of the other side, too. Or, actually, would I be better suited chewing on this pen? Perhaps. I shall weigh my options carefully. Oops, I waited too long. Pen chewing it is.
First Grade
My goodness, I am fatigued from these full days of school. Not used to such a grueling schedule. I'm even more exhausted than last Christmas. I have but a foggy memory of last Christmas Eve at grandmother's house. Mommy and Daddy were really emotional and told me, very slowly and stuttery indeed, that neither could drive until their system "flushed out the bad stuff." That cryptic answer, as I recall, was the culprit that awakened my curiosity, and thus led me to sniff the bottle they had been swigging from all night. It seared my nostrils, and my throat even more when I drank it. Afterward, the world spun every time I closed my eyes. This sensation lasted at least three hours, or forever, whichever one is longer. When I woke the next morning I felt I hadn't slept but an hour, and my head throbbed something awful.
Second Grade
Last night I saw something utterly unacceptable, intolerable, and, despite my lack of religious beliefs due in large part to a lack of such in my parents, blasphemous. I was on the Internet, and unbeknownst to me, perhaps due to a typo or pop-up or other dicey happenstance, a human form appeared before my eyes. I wasn't able to process much before I wrenched my eyes shut tighter than Daddy's friend's girlfriend, according to Daddy's friend.
And P.S. The Earth is round?! Yet so flat. My mind reels even as I think this.
Third Grade
I've experienced something perfectly unique up to this point in my existence. Alex, my friend for since, well, forever, smiled at me the other day. It was a routine gesture, nothing extraordinary, and yet, as the sunlight bathed her face in warm light, and her teeth shone a pretty pearly white, I felt something tug in the pit of my stomach. I told Mom. She said I'm getting sick. I told Dad. He said I've got the hots. So might I conclude that I'm getting sick with a fever? Oh but it feels like something more...significant than sickness. Ohhhh.
Fourth Grade
It's happened again. Ever since that night in second grade, I've feared stumbling upon another fleshy image in my routine browsing of the World Wide Web. But this time, despite my precautions, the image came from a medium I was wholly unsuspecting of. I was watching television. HBO, to be precise. Remember the Titans ended, and I was about to flip to Disney Channel when I learned that G-String Divas would be on next. I was confident it was another singing show, of a similar ilk as American Idol and The Voice. I could not have been further from the truth. I saw a completely naked human just four minutes in, and the strangest part was that this time I didn't immediately shut my eyes. What is happening to me?
Fifth Grade
I am in love! Oh the universe, in its near-infinite and ever-expanding vastness, has merged my life trajectory with another organism so beautiful and caring and intelligent and perfect. Oh to be young and in love. I love her more than the full moon on Halloween, and the smell of grandmother's house when she bakes dessert and dinner at the same time, and Harry Potter, and swimming in Detroit Lake in the summer time, and heating up a bowl of brownies topped with Skittles and then dipping a scoop of ice cream on top. Oh life has never been more sublime. She is the epitome of joy and hope, of empathy and companionship. We will love each other forever. My love shall transcend the death of our Sun. The darkening of our galaxy. The inescapable entropy of our very universe, and even the entropy of all universes, whose existences are postulated in the Multiverse Theory. After that unfathomable span of time, my love shall still breathe. And so will hers. For me.
Sixth Grade
We broke up. I have descended deeper into a self-pitying, hedonistic wallowing that I will never escape from. Where did we go wrong? We spent an eternity together, yet after five months of perfect bliss, she said she no longer loved me, that her love had waned, faltered, shriveled in a way that she never could have predicted. I grieve the irreconcilable nullification of my happiness, for I will surely never feel as I did on those chilly nights cuddling on the couch under her Mom's watchful eye.
(Grades seven through twelve will be revealed in the next post, and you know Billy's thoughts gon' get steamy.)
I will now share this kid's thoughts with you. He is a representation of many kids, as there is nothing remarkable about him, except perhaps a remarkable affinity toward mediocrity.
Kindergarten
Oh me, oh my. It appears I have not exercised self-control despite the many lessons that Mommy and Daddy have given me inside the lavatory. I suppose I shall tell my teacher that the reason my pants are now sopping wet is that I have urinated in them. Oh my, I best be swift about it or something is bound to come out of the other side, too. Or, actually, would I be better suited chewing on this pen? Perhaps. I shall weigh my options carefully. Oops, I waited too long. Pen chewing it is.
First Grade
My goodness, I am fatigued from these full days of school. Not used to such a grueling schedule. I'm even more exhausted than last Christmas. I have but a foggy memory of last Christmas Eve at grandmother's house. Mommy and Daddy were really emotional and told me, very slowly and stuttery indeed, that neither could drive until their system "flushed out the bad stuff." That cryptic answer, as I recall, was the culprit that awakened my curiosity, and thus led me to sniff the bottle they had been swigging from all night. It seared my nostrils, and my throat even more when I drank it. Afterward, the world spun every time I closed my eyes. This sensation lasted at least three hours, or forever, whichever one is longer. When I woke the next morning I felt I hadn't slept but an hour, and my head throbbed something awful.
Second Grade
Last night I saw something utterly unacceptable, intolerable, and, despite my lack of religious beliefs due in large part to a lack of such in my parents, blasphemous. I was on the Internet, and unbeknownst to me, perhaps due to a typo or pop-up or other dicey happenstance, a human form appeared before my eyes. I wasn't able to process much before I wrenched my eyes shut tighter than Daddy's friend's girlfriend, according to Daddy's friend.
And P.S. The Earth is round?! Yet so flat. My mind reels even as I think this.
Third Grade
I've experienced something perfectly unique up to this point in my existence. Alex, my friend for since, well, forever, smiled at me the other day. It was a routine gesture, nothing extraordinary, and yet, as the sunlight bathed her face in warm light, and her teeth shone a pretty pearly white, I felt something tug in the pit of my stomach. I told Mom. She said I'm getting sick. I told Dad. He said I've got the hots. So might I conclude that I'm getting sick with a fever? Oh but it feels like something more...significant than sickness. Ohhhh.
Fourth Grade
It's happened again. Ever since that night in second grade, I've feared stumbling upon another fleshy image in my routine browsing of the World Wide Web. But this time, despite my precautions, the image came from a medium I was wholly unsuspecting of. I was watching television. HBO, to be precise. Remember the Titans ended, and I was about to flip to Disney Channel when I learned that G-String Divas would be on next. I was confident it was another singing show, of a similar ilk as American Idol and The Voice. I could not have been further from the truth. I saw a completely naked human just four minutes in, and the strangest part was that this time I didn't immediately shut my eyes. What is happening to me?
Fifth Grade
I am in love! Oh the universe, in its near-infinite and ever-expanding vastness, has merged my life trajectory with another organism so beautiful and caring and intelligent and perfect. Oh to be young and in love. I love her more than the full moon on Halloween, and the smell of grandmother's house when she bakes dessert and dinner at the same time, and Harry Potter, and swimming in Detroit Lake in the summer time, and heating up a bowl of brownies topped with Skittles and then dipping a scoop of ice cream on top. Oh life has never been more sublime. She is the epitome of joy and hope, of empathy and companionship. We will love each other forever. My love shall transcend the death of our Sun. The darkening of our galaxy. The inescapable entropy of our very universe, and even the entropy of all universes, whose existences are postulated in the Multiverse Theory. After that unfathomable span of time, my love shall still breathe. And so will hers. For me.
Sixth Grade
We broke up. I have descended deeper into a self-pitying, hedonistic wallowing that I will never escape from. Where did we go wrong? We spent an eternity together, yet after five months of perfect bliss, she said she no longer loved me, that her love had waned, faltered, shriveled in a way that she never could have predicted. I grieve the irreconcilable nullification of my happiness, for I will surely never feel as I did on those chilly nights cuddling on the couch under her Mom's watchful eye.
(Grades seven through twelve will be revealed in the next post, and you know Billy's thoughts gon' get steamy.)