Elementary Gangs and Paper Writing

Please note that I do not share my grandmother’s views, except her view on cake. We both love a good cake. 

I thought I’d take a break from the mind numbing process of writing a five page “mini” paper about the history of media to update the world on my extremely racist grandmother.

Why? Well, procrastination mostly.

So she came over when I was mid-thesis writing because she wanted me to give my brother a birthday card (which probably contains a large amount of undeserved money, as she loves her 22 year old grandson best. pfft).

Anyway.

She asked me if I had seen my little cousin lately, and I told her I did about a month ago. To which she replied by telling me how tall my cousin has grown since I’d last seen her (she said it like I hadn’t seen her in years), and informed me she has started first grade (like I’ve been living under a rock and had no idea). Oh grandmothers.

On to the good part.

My grandmother then informed me that she did not like the school my cousin was starting at.

“Oh, why is that?” I inquired. (look I used inquired instead of asked, how fancy!)

“All the Bosnians and gangs.”

I thought she was joking.

Nope. In our small city, where we have very little crime of any sort, to the point where somebody stealing $50 from the local gas station will have their face thrown up on the news and talked about like it’s the most exciting thing since the discovery of the red panda (aren’t they just the cutest though?), my grandmother is convinced my 1st grade cousin is attending a gang ridden elementary school.

 

I have nothing more for you today, because.. I.. just.. ugh. Grandma.

 

Jessi

 

P.s. also note that I love my grandmother, but jeez.

 

My Lame Elementary School Bee Story

So if your unlike me and are able to keep track of the days of the week, you know today is Saturday. That means I did not have school today. A.k.a. I was not able to embarrass myself, start conversations, or jot down the hilariously weird things my professors say.

However! I decided this Saturday that we would just go back to the past and visit fifth grade Jessi (me, duh) with another bee story I recalled after I put up the post yesterday. It involves me almost causing a major medical emergency (which honestly I’m surprised doesn’t happen more often.)

Anyway, it’s very short.

It was a Friday at 3:10pm and the school bell rang. I decided to go out the front door today, because I was going to play on the playground with a few of my friends, before I walked home.

Outside the doors, kids were sitting around and waiting for rides to pick them up, including some kids leaning against the glass directly to the left of the door.

As I walked out I felt what I thought was a leaf land on my forehead (as it had happened earlier that day.) So I quickly reached up with my left hand, grabbed the “leaf” and threw it towards to ground.

Oh, but I think you know where this is going.

Clearly it was not a leaf I had thrown. It was a big old bumble bee. And who else did I throw it in the direction of, but the highly allergic Ethan. FANTASTIC.

However, even as a young one, I was awkward and even though I realized what I had done moments afterwards I continued to walk away even as I heard…

“Oh MY GOODNESS! I just got stung by a bee!”
Almost immediately followed by little Ethan saying “Good thing it didn’t sting me instead!”

Yep.

I threw a bee at a kid who is allergic to bees and got lucky and hit the kid sitting next to him.

If only I always had such luck!

Happy Saturday.

Jessi