Mrs. Eaton is Dead Now
Today I was putting documents into a looseleaf binder and almost forgot to look as I closed the binder. I moved my hand just before the silver rings snapped closed, and I was instantly reminded of a day in elementary school.
One afternoon when I was in kindergarten, I didn't feel well and got sent to the nurse's office. Mrs. Eaton had me sit on the cot while she did whatever it is school nurses do (dispense ice packs? dispense Band-Aids? let students take power naps?). Then two "big girls" from fourth grade came in - one of them had caught the skin between her thumb and pointer while closing her looseleaf and needed ... ice?
I had previously looked up to these big girls who were so very cool with their looseleafs. I longed for an ugly blue looseleaf with stickers to carry around the hallways like they did. To realize one of them had hurt herself simply because she hadn't paid attention completely knocked her off the pedestal I'd put her on. I vowed to pay enough attention to what I was doing so that I wouldn't get injured.*
Mrs. Eaton finished with the big girls and sent them back to class before turning her attention to me. She decided I would live and instructed me to put the icepack back in the freezer before going back to class. I hopped off the cot and tried to open the freezer. I was five years old. The freezer door was stuck and I couldn't open it. I asked Mrs. Eaton for help. She told me to pull harder. So I pulled with all the strength my five year old body could muster up. And I tipped the whole fucking thing forward. Somehow I realized what was about to happen and managed to body slam the freezer back against the wall before it squished me. But the glass coffee pot sitting on top of the freezer slid forward and fell to the floor near my feet and broke into tiny pieces. I was lucky it didn't break on top of my head.
I was mortified beyond belief. I apologized profusely to Mrs. Eaton. I told her I would ask my mother if we had an extra coffee pot we could bring her. I apologized again. I wanted to cry. Mrs. Eaton yelled at me to just go back to class. I was still holding the icepack and didn't know what to do with it. I started to ask, but she yelled at me to get out. So I put the icepack on her desk, apologized yet again, and ran back to my classroom.
For the rest of the year whenever we saw Mrs. Eaton in the hallways, I was too embarrassed to say hello to her like all the other kids did. I was sure she hated me. All because I broke her coffee pot. Mrs. Eaton retired at the end of the year.
*I haven't caught my fingers in a looseleaf yet.
One afternoon when I was in kindergarten, I didn't feel well and got sent to the nurse's office. Mrs. Eaton had me sit on the cot while she did whatever it is school nurses do (dispense ice packs? dispense Band-Aids? let students take power naps?). Then two "big girls" from fourth grade came in - one of them had caught the skin between her thumb and pointer while closing her looseleaf and needed ... ice?
I had previously looked up to these big girls who were so very cool with their looseleafs. I longed for an ugly blue looseleaf with stickers to carry around the hallways like they did. To realize one of them had hurt herself simply because she hadn't paid attention completely knocked her off the pedestal I'd put her on. I vowed to pay enough attention to what I was doing so that I wouldn't get injured.*
Mrs. Eaton finished with the big girls and sent them back to class before turning her attention to me. She decided I would live and instructed me to put the icepack back in the freezer before going back to class. I hopped off the cot and tried to open the freezer. I was five years old. The freezer door was stuck and I couldn't open it. I asked Mrs. Eaton for help. She told me to pull harder. So I pulled with all the strength my five year old body could muster up. And I tipped the whole fucking thing forward. Somehow I realized what was about to happen and managed to body slam the freezer back against the wall before it squished me. But the glass coffee pot sitting on top of the freezer slid forward and fell to the floor near my feet and broke into tiny pieces. I was lucky it didn't break on top of my head.
I was mortified beyond belief. I apologized profusely to Mrs. Eaton. I told her I would ask my mother if we had an extra coffee pot we could bring her. I apologized again. I wanted to cry. Mrs. Eaton yelled at me to just go back to class. I was still holding the icepack and didn't know what to do with it. I started to ask, but she yelled at me to get out. So I put the icepack on her desk, apologized yet again, and ran back to my classroom.
For the rest of the year whenever we saw Mrs. Eaton in the hallways, I was too embarrassed to say hello to her like all the other kids did. I was sure she hated me. All because I broke her coffee pot. Mrs. Eaton retired at the end of the year.
*I haven't caught my fingers in a looseleaf yet.
posted by Green at 2/14/2006 09:55:00 PM
4 Comments:
It's amazing the folks they allow to take care of kids...
I am a former Elem. School teacher, and your story breaks my heart, especially now that I have a 5 year old daughter in Kindergarten who would've done the same thing you did (apologize profusely....) There's not a bad bone or thought in my daughter's head and to think that this scenario could happen to her would crush me, and infuriate me to NO END.
Glad the old bag retired. You don't need folks like that where kids are.
:)
What a cow she was for yelling at you, you poor thing. I hope she went through serious caffiene withdrawels. B*tch!!
I want to hug that little kindergarten you. And tell you it's OK, accidents happen. You poor thing.
Were you scared of coffee pots for years?
I also wanted to tell you that I'll be thinking of you and your brother on Friday (surgery's still on, right?)
Glad to hear your fingers are too quick for notebook rings. Mine weren't so lucky. But I was never wuss enough to have to put an ice pack on it, either.
(this is Winey, btw)
Gah! I can't believe she was so rude about the coffee pot. Had she just been a tad more helpful, it wouldn't have been an issue. As for the binder incident, fortunately it's never happened to me, but I have stapled my finger too many times to remember.
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