I was a half day kindergartner in Mrs. Terry's class. I was a West Blvd. Bobcat. For some reason I don't have as many memories of kindergarten as I do of preschool. I remember some things that are pretty random, like our student teacher was Ms. Amy and she had a Dorthy Hammel haircut.
One day at snack sitting at a table with other kids, I had to go to the bathroom really bad. It must have been a time when I knew we were not supposed to get up because I decided to urinate right there while sitting in my chair at the snack table. I played it cool though and just pretended like nothing had happened. Mrs. Terry and Ms. Amy came up to me and asked why there was a puddle under my seat. I simply told them that I must have spilt my juice. I have never been comfortable with lying, nor am I good at it, but at the time I felt it was what I had to do and I was convinced that they had bought it. Of course looking back, and having experience working with kids, Mrs. Terry and Ms. Amy knew what was up. I was lucky that they didn't embarrass me and just played along like they believed me.
Our playground in retrospect was a death trap. Working in quality assurance of school age programs now, the kids wouldn't even be allowed on that playground. I mean I was freaking out at an afterschool site yesterday about kids climbing up the plastic slide instead of sliding down. Our playground consisted of swings, super tall monkey bars, and concrete tunnels-two kinds. One was your typical tunnel that you crawl through-I still think they are totally dangerous because how are you supposed to supervise a child incased in a concrete cylinder? I witnessed kissing in there, but who knows what I didn't witness. The other concrete tunnels were these tall cylinders of concrete with footholes in them that you climbed up and then basically dropped down into. I had several nurse's office visits because of those tall concrete death traps. You could have easily gotten stuck in the bottom of these well-like structures unable to climb out and no one would know. I hope teachers back then did head counts before going back inside!
My final kindergarten memory was at the end of the school year gearing up for 1st grade. That was a huge deal. Being a part day kid, I didn't get to eat lunch in the school cafeteria. I ate at home. To prepare us for the big time, we got to have a "practice lunch." I still remember that cafeteria smell and low ceilings. Our practice lunch consisted of milk and country fried steak and gravy. I remember it being in this perfect square shape, not natural to me, and this pale brown gravy covering it. Mmm. Let's just say I was excited about picking out a lunch box for first grade so I wouldn't have to eat the cafeteria food. To this day I will not eat country fried steak.