Dear Mrs. Fisher,
You were a great teacher!
.....until you weren't.
You kept me in class and didn't let me go to lunch. And for what reason you may ask? For the simple reason that I could not for the life of me pronounce "dinosaur."
This was way back when in first grade, yet I have never seemed to forget this day. At the time, with my oh so ripe youth and bountiful collection of great days and not so great days, this was deemed my worst day ever; and mind you, it still ranks pretty high up there.
Every couple of days, you would call about six of us at a time to go over some basic reading, to see if we were able to keep up at the reading level we were expected to be at.
It was Wednesday, March 3rd... No, I'm playing, I don't remember the actual day...
But on that day, you called me and others to come and check our reading. We read word by word in a circle until we were done. Everything was going smoothly, as smooth as a jar of extra smooth peanut butter... but then that jar ran out and all that was left was extra chunky, not even regular chunky, but extra. Extra.
Dee-no-say-er... die-nos-or... dine-osay-or.
How do I say this word? What is this word? How did I not know the word?
Looking back now, I hang my head in shame that I could not pronounce this correctly; there are only so many ways you can butcher a word.
Nevertheless, I held my group back and eventually it was time to leave the class and go to the cafeteria for lunch time. We had a set menu of the lunch items and that day they were serving chicken nuggets and tator tots. Now chicken nuggets and tator tots are still currently a blessing from heaven, but back then it was heaven itself. In addition to the nuggets and tator tots, they had other less popular options. Lunch was first-come-first-serve, meaning it was a war to get your hands on those nuggets and tots.
Seeing that it was lunch time, I figured you would finally tell me the correct pronunciation and let me off the metaphorical hook. I was so very wrong.
I wept in silent tears as you bid my classmates farewell and sent them off to lunch, while keeping me tight and secure on the metaphorical hook.
These silent tears did not stay silent for long, however.
With every new and extremely wrong pronunciation of 'dinosaur', I shed yet another tear.
You. Were. Relentless! Unmoved! I was five, for crying out loud (literally). You'd think being face to tear-stained face with a crying 5-year-old would have touched you enough to cut me some slack! Wrong yet again.
With only ten minutes left of lunch time and no more tears to shed, you caved and finally put an end to my misery, and I'm sure yours as well. You walked me to the cafeteria and I'll be darned, a miracle happened right then and there. The cafeteria still had chicken nuggets and tots.
And I kid you not, they were dinosaur shaped nuggets. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.
But in the end, I am thankful for this day, because as a young kid, you taught me a few things: 1. If at first you don't succeed, try, try, try, keep trying, try some more, try again, 2. Life won't always give you a break, 3. Life throws you into unknown situations, and it can sometimes be unfair, and 4. Life works out in funny ways, so don't sweat it too much; crying is allowed, however. If it is meant to be, it will happen, and my friend, those dino nuggets were meant to be.
P.S. You're still a great teacher, Mrs. Fisher, I was just bitter.