Second grade was awesome. I loved my teacher. She was young and pretty and married to the sixth grade teacher. I found out her first name was Anita, so when we were assigned to write a story, the main character in my riveting tale was a mysterious character named Anita. I wanted so badly to be the teacher’s pet, but she didn’t seem to pick any favorites. Then, at the end of the year, Carla got to take home the class turtle, so I knew she loved Carla more than me. I was crushed. However, I did win the award for most book reports.
I felt very fancy on picture day. My mom didn’t fuss with my hair very often, so the pin curls made me feel extra stylish and flouncy. Too bad she didn’t cut those bangs a little straighter though. I don’t know why I wore the same plaid dress in both my 1st and 2nd grade pictures. Somebody wasn’t paying attention.
A few weeks into the fall quarter, Anita noticed I was having trouble seeing the blackboard from the back row. She sent a note home and it wasn’t long before I was sporting cat-eye glasses. By third grade, the lovely curls were chopped off in favor of the ever-popular pixie haircut.
Never again would I be as beautiful as I was in September of 1966.