I recently found a note I wrote in 5th grade and it might be my favorite thing I’ve ever written. Spoiler alert: I was a very snarky 10 year old…
~I hate gym class. This is the third time I’ve been to the nurses office this week. Where is she anyway? I bet she’s looking for an ice pack. I hate her. Why can’t she just get me a piece of paper bag like I asked? Every time I come in here I try to explain about the paper bag, but she never listens. She just looks at me like “you’re a 10-year-old girl and therefore, I assume, a complete idiot. So why don’t you just sit back and leave the healing to the professional.” Then she will come back with an ice pack and a box of scratchy tissue and tell me to lie here on my back until it stops, while she goes back to knitting that gross scarf for her dog or baby or dog-baby or whatever. Three times this week and she still won’t believe me that I know how to stop my own bloody noses! At home I fold up a little piece of paper bag and put it on the gums above my top front teeth. It stops my nosebleed in less than 10 minutes. It’s the only thing that makes my nose stop bleeding. But Miss puke-scarf never listens so I’m missing game day in math class to lay here and stare at National Geographic posters while blood drips down the back of my throat.
I hate gym class. I hate being the tallest girl in my class. I’ve been the tallest girl- sometimes the tallest kid period-since kindergarten. It’s not like I’m crazy tall like my cousin Kara. She was 6’2″ by the time she was 14 years old and once she locked yourself in her room for two days and said she wouldn’t come out until her parents promised to get her surgery to shorten the bones in her legs. I don’t know how they got her to come out of there, but she’s still 6’2″.
I hate being the tallest girl because everyone expects me to be good at sports. I can’t throw, I never make baskets, I can’t climb the rope, and every time I try to catch something I and up here with a bloody nose. Lots of girls in my class can’t do sports – but they’re little and they were dresses, so no one cares if they aren’t good. I bet if I wasn’t so tall and didn’t wear pants everyday I spend a lot less time in the nurses office. ~