I Still Have It - A Scap of Toilet Paper

Do you have any worthless possessions? These are the items that have no value but mean something to you. As the title suggests, I have tucked away a plain scrap of toilet paper in one of my books. I'm sure you're asking what any logical person would ask: Why haven't you flushed it? Anyone who went to sleep-away camp as a kid, would understand this oddity.

Back in the days of no gray hair and a skinny life-filled body, I spent my summers at a camp in Zionsville, Indiana. Today they call it Gucci but in my days, it was UCI. This is a Jewish camp with month long sessions filled with fun and sports. We lived in packed cabins with a group of girls that we grew extremely close too. We also got to know the boys quite well when we'd flirt with them during our day activities.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. For me, that was camp. The last night of camp, everyone stayed up all night crying and hugging because we didn't want to go back to our awful and abusive homes. Not really, but one would think that the way we boo hooed. Anyway, that last night of camp, I wailed with everyone else while carrying around my diminishing roll of toilet paper.

One of my friends grabbed my toilet paper and scribbled a message on it: Cheer up. We all love you. Simple, plain, to the point; and yes, I still have it.

Kindergarten

I'd always heard that whatever one needs to survive in life, one learns in Kindergarten. If you haven't seen Kindergarten in a while, keep in mind that it's now the new first grades. These little tikes, who are barely out of diapers, are already writing complete stories and completing real math problems. Forget about identifying numbers--that was so preschool. With such a tough curriculum, I wonder how any kid could survive without the pre-school experience.

I remember a carefree kindergarten year with Miss Meyers. She was a loving older woman, who I was lucky enough to have right before she retired. I loved her dearly. Apparently she loved me too because at the end of the year, I found her pink crayon in my bag. I went to tell her about it, and she said, "Shhh. Don't tell anyone, but I gave it to you because you're my favorite." Okay, here I am forty-four years later blabbing about it, but this little act meant so much to baby me. It gave me the foundation and confidence to continue on in school for another seventeen years!

I have three children who have made it through Kindergarten and way beyond. When my youngest started Kindergarten she came across the misfortune of having spoken to Ross. He was a foolish young man who worked at our community center. After Erica enjoyed her first day of Kindergarten, Ross asked her if she cried. When she gave him a puzzled look and said, "No," he didn't stop. He told my child how she is supposed to cry on the first day of Kindergarten. Everyone cries. So needless to say, she started an epidemic up and down the hall on day two. The worst criers were the teachers' kids whose moms worked right there in the building. Thanks a lot, Ross! I thought about payback when his kiddos started Kindergarten but had grown up too much to have fun at his expense. Dag-gum-mit!