Mrs. Wilbur and Me, The Last Straw

I was thinking back to when I was little and in kindergarten. I loved birthdays. On your birthday you got to sit at a table in the "house corner" with your milk (which was always provided)for snack time with Graham Crackers. Then you could choose three friends to sit with you. And if you were lucky when it was someone else's birthday they would choose you. I wasn't very popular except with Lynn who flunked out.

I thought about my Kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Wilbur. She was close to 70 and really had no business wearing heels in a skirt with a bunch of kindergarteners on asphalt. That is just a fact. That is the reason she had to retire. People blamed it on me. They didn't actually say so, but when Mrs. Wilbur had to retire in the middle of the year because of a broken arm, I had the distinct feeling that it was all my fault.

Broken arm? At 70? What the heck was she doing with a broken arm? A hip I could understand. That would have been much worse. All we were doing was playing "Farmer in the Dell"

As luck would have it I was the "mouse" in the center and of course it goes without saying that. Okay I'll say it. The "mouse" picks the "cheese." So being the little brown noser that I was I decided to go for teacher's pet and chose Mrs. Wilbur. I grabbed her by the right elbow and spun her around and kept running when I heard a thud. That didn't matter. I ran all the way back to where I left her, knowing I would get there before her, old as she was and she would end up in the "mush pot."

Well, when I got to her place she was still on the ground. Crying.

I don't remember what else happened that day. I know for days after we had a substitute, but can't tell you anything about that.

Back then and through my entire elementary and junior high years, if I were laughing or crying or embarassed my round face would get as red as a tomato. Who knew that the PTA were planning a retirement party for her? I should have, my dad was PTA president and my mom was vice president. But I was oblivious to just about everything unless it had sugar in it.

One night there was to be a special night at the school. I didn't know what it was for, I just knew that all of the kids who had ever been in Mrs. Wilbur's class got to stand on stage and that was exciting! That meant my sister and both brothers and I got to be on stage since we had all gone through her class. The taller kids stood in the back with all the kindergarteners standing right in front. We sang something but I don't remember what. I held one of those hollow "fish shaped" percussion instruments that you slide a stick down for some noise.

I looked out at the audience, and there was Mrs. Wilbur in a special chair, which looked like a throne, a robe around her shoulders, a crown on her head and her right arm in a white cloth sling. And it was only then that I realized what I had done. My face got bright red and I couldn't take my eyes off of her. The reason she was sitting on the throne, never to be teaching again, was because of me. (I always had the suspicion that the whole of the Canaga clan broke her down...) but it was I who was the last straw.

I don't remember being too sad that she was gone. She was a sweet old lady. I did miss her when the new teacher put me in a locked room with a window that I threw my shoe at, screaming at her to let me out. I don't remember why I was in there. I'm sure it was for my own good, but I wasn't going to go down without a fight. I think the teacher finally gave up. I know I didn't calm down. I don't know how long that teacher lasted.

Things were looking up. The next year I was going to be in first grade. Scotty-watty-doodoo left for another school so it wasn't going to be as much fun. But at least I would get to go to the cafeteria once in the year on my birthday for a birthday cupcake.