2002-01-24 - 4:48 p.m.
When I was 4 or 5 my mother was heavily involved with St. Denis, the grammar school that my brother was attending, and the one which I was to attend in a year or so (depending on how old I was when this story happened). She often volunteered to help with bake sales, and other Catholic school related fun fun fun.
Being a toddler, I had little influence on where I was taken or what I did once I got there. My mother had taken to bringing along a favorite book of mine, something by Tolstoy.. or was is Mickey Mouse?, to keep me occupied.
Fun fact: I learned to read at the age of 4 by reading the highway signs with my mother as we drove around. Well, she drove most of the time, she had to be REALLY drunk to let me drive.
On the day in question my mother agreed to help setup for a bake sale at the school and took me along for the ride, with book in tow.
She was off doing whatever one does for a Holy Cake Sale, and I was sitting in the cafeteria reading. I soon tired of the book and sought other distractions. That is when I spied with my little eye (I only had one at the time due to a tragic pottery accident, I have since recovered) a red box hanging on the wall.
Surely this box was the source of all the world's merriment and wonder! It was red like candy and Santa Claus! And it had a handle which must be the means with which it uses to dispense the goodness.
So being a plucky youth, I grab the chair I was sitting on, pushed it next to the wall, climbed up, reached out my little hands and pulled that red lever, awaiting to be rewards with something.
But definately not rewarded with the sounds of bells, and sirens, which is what I got. My mother came running out of the kitchen looking like the building was on fire. I of course was doing what anyone would have done, I was standing on the chair crying because of all the noise.
My mother quickly grabbed me and ran out of the school, which was quickly being evacuated. Mom looked for Sister John (a nun!) who was the principal of the school. When we found that worthy woman was was relieved that the school was not in fact on fire, and gave me a sharp look, but since I was already bawling, it didn't matter.
The firemen were soon on the scene, and one even tried to get me to stop crying by letting me wear his helmet.
It didn't work. Silly fireman, kids don't wear big helmets!
So I was crazy even as a small fry. Tomorrow's episode, "I fought the Dean of Discipline, and Won!" Or "Eat Fist Deanie Weinie!"
