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RightNation.US: Elmer's Glue - a First-Grader's WMD - RightNation.US

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Elmer's Glue - a First-Grader's WDM

stickin_damud


I have received the paddle (or the 'board' as I affectionately knew it) exacltly two times during my tenure as a government school attendee. This is the story of the first time.


Spring, 1972 - Helen J. Neeley Elementary School, Mrs. Seda's first grade class.

Maybe you all (that's y'all fo' y'all suthiners :whistle: ) have known a kid like this back in your school days. A really odd duck, from a distance looks pretty normal, but when you get up close you know something isn't right. He's pasty white and has stringy blonde hair greased up and combed back with Vitalis. He wore brightly colored sweater vests with a plaid button down underneath and oddly-colored striped pants with white socks and somewhat polished jet black dress shoes. He kind of walked with stiff arms and jetted around making whirring and gurgling noises that no one understood. I can remember when he ate an apple, he ate an apple. The whole thing, seeds, core - I think he left the stem for the garbage but I can't be certain. He also ate everything from a chicken drumstick all the way down to the bones. You know the kind of kid I'm talking about?

For sake of this story, I will call him Milton (not his real name).

Now, maybe the kid had mental health problems that weren't being dealt with, but he was a wierd kid nonetheless. Come to think of it, he may have been autistic and that would explain a lot. I never bothered the guy. I just kind of noticed him from time to time, doing the very strange things he did. I say I never bothered him, and that was true until one day...

I can remember that day being overcast, not sunny at all, a little breezy with the threat of sprinkles or perhaps showers in the air. It wasn't enough to keep us from our daily recess time. I remember we had to wear heavy jackets or coats because of the time of year it was. I'm thinking it was March or April. Our playground was an asphalt tarmac with the old steel playground equipment (you know the kind that is pretty much outlawed these days) and bordered the grassy area of the main schoolyard on three sides and a sidewalk that edged it on the fourth.

On this blustery day, most of us were busy playing four-square, or teatherball, or hop scotch, or just playing on the playground equipment...all of us except for Milton. You see, Milton was always in his own world. I looked over toward and through the swings and noticed Milton walking kind of slowly around the perimeter of our playground. My curiosity got the best of me and I wandered over close enough so I could see what he was doing. Here was Milton with one of those small grade school sized Elmer's glue bottles,

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squirting a continuous stream of glue a foot or so in and along the edge of the asphalt. I looked back and saw that he had been at it quite awhile - there was a good fifty feet of glue in various states of being dry as far as I could see! There were spots of "globs" where he must have stopped to make a pile, and others where he made a spiral or an "X" or drew some abstract figure. I don't know why, but I got pretty mad at that point. I never said a word to him, but I did say to myself, 'not on my playground...not on my watch'.

The next day, which was a day very much like the day before, we headed out with our coats on for recess. I wandered around for a little and then casually walked up to Milton, took out my cleverly concealed Elmer's glue bottle from my coat pocket, and emptied the entire chamber onto his coat with my own version of abstract art. I don't even think he moved. I think I said something to the effect of 'This is for gluing our playground. How do you like it?' The self-proclaimed defender and protector of the tarmac, I was.


I got called into the principal's office just before the end of the day, was told why I was in there and that my mother had been called about my behavior on the playground at recess earlier that day. I was then told to stand up, turn around and assume the position and received 2 whacks from Mr. Campbell's board. :giggle: I wasn't the defender and protector anymore: I was a criminal.

As I walked home (which was only four houses from the school) I thought 'well, mom already knows that I got punished, so we'll have a talk and it'll be over'.

I made it home and walked in the door and my mom was waiting for me. She had her hand hidden behind her back and asked me to come over to her. She grabbed me and gave me a few licks from her wooden spoon right in the same spot where that varnished hickory made it's mark earlier. :spank:

I didn't bother Milton anymore and I discovered a new fondness of paste after that.

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11 Comments On This Entry

Amusing and so real. Been there, seen that, gave the paddling. Not you of course, but had to deal with it.

Danny
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They actually let first graders have glue?? Man, you guys were lucky. Back in the dark ages we had to go out and find and kill our own hosrses or burros if we wanted glue. And "Paste" was nothing more than flour and water. Actually tasted better than it held! Crayons tasted better back then too! You young whippersnappers today are so spoiled!!
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leftcoast, right winger, on Dec 15 2006, 11:01 AM, said:

They actually let first graders have glue?? Man, you guys were lucky. Back in the dark ages we had to go out and find and kill our own hosrses or burros if we wanted glue. And "Paste" was nothing more than flour and water. Actually tasted better than it held! Crayons tasted better back then too! You young whippersnappers today are so spoiled!!


Yeah, we had scissors too! You know, the pointed tip kind for kids although if I recall, the round-nosed type were coming on to give to those who liked running around with them.

Hey for all I know, I may have been the reason some schools went exclusively with paste only. :RN:
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cobalt-blue, on Dec 15 2006, 10:43 AM, said:

Amusing and so real. Been there, seen that, gave the paddling. Not you of course, but had to deal with it.

Danny



The second time I got the board wasn't so dramatic. We were sitting at the lunch table one day and got the crazy idea to take the pats of butter on the end of our plastic spoons and flip them up so they'd stick to the ceiling tiles in the gym. The next day there would be this great big yellow grease spot, several of them actually, up there. Some one ratted us out and, yup, got the board and had to eat lunch at home for a week.
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I usually got the board for fighting, but we had this PE teacher in junior high that would let you exchange swats with him on his birthday. Some kids would try to strategize, "If I just tap him, will he go easy on me? or will he think that I'm trying to get off light..." I never worried about that. I'd swing like the Babe after calling his homer.

I'm a little concerned, though; I eat apples core and all.
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bigpapa, on Dec 15 2006, 12:31 PM, said:

I usually got the board for fighting, but we had this PE teacher in junior high that would let you exchange swats with him on his birthday. Some kids would try to strategize, "If I just tap him, will he go easy on me? or will he think that I'm trying to get off light..." I never worried about that. I'd swing like the Babe after calling his homer.

I'm a little concerned, though; I eat apples core and all.



Milton, is that you? I could probably eat the core ok, it's the bottom where the bloom fell off that I would have a hard time with. But all the cartlidge and tendons on the drumstick...nah.

I had a shop teacher who would playfully chase us around the room with his custom board (had finger grooves on the handle and a few holes in the working end for more effect) and once in awhile one of us would get a hold of it and chase him around. A few times someone would land a solid hit on him and it would get a little out of control. Ah, the good ole days....
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bigpapa, on Dec 15 2006, 02:31 PM, said:

I usually got the board for fighting, but we had this PE teacher in junior high that would let you exchange swats with him on his birthday. Some kids would try to strategize, "If I just tap him, will he go easy on me? or will he think that I'm trying to get off light..." I never worried about that. I'd swing like the Babe after calling his homer.

I'm a little concerned, though; I eat apples core and all.

Whatttaya know Bigpapa, we have something in common. I eat apples core and all too.

Danny
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stickin_damud, on Dec 15 2006, 01:37 PM, said:

cobalt-blue, on Dec 15 2006, 10:43 AM, said:

Amusing and so real. Been there, seen that, gave the paddling. Not you of course, but had to deal with it.

Danny

The second time I got the board wasn't so dramatic. We were sitting at the lunch table one day and got the crazy idea to take the pats of butter on the end of our plastic spoons and flip them up so they'd stick to the ceiling tiles in the gym. The next day there would be this great big yellow grease spot, several of them actually, up there. Some one ratted us out and, yup, got the board and had to eat lunch at home for a week.



We used to do that with tapioca pudding. One bowl stayed up there for six weeks!
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I was a kindergarten criminal. We had this little play house with miniature chairs, table, and a miniature broom. I was captivated with that broom. I held it upsidedown in the palm of my hand and tried to balance it. (Well, I never have been gifted with athletic abilities) and it fell to the side, slamming into the head of an unsuspecting paster.

(Who screamed way more than I thought the injury called for.)

I was sent to my table and spent the rest of free time, in detention, my head on my folded forearms, "thinking" about my crime.

Actually, I remember being VERY angry. I hadn't done it on purpose. Didn't things not count if you didn't do them on purpose?
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mollywalk, on Dec 15 2006, 05:31 PM, said:

I was a kindergarten criminal. We had this little play house with miniature chairs, table, and a miniature broom. I was captivated with that broom. I held it upsidedown in the palm of my hand and tried to balance it. (Well, I never have been gifted with athletic abilities) and it fell to the side, slamming into the head of an unsuspecting paster.

(Who screamed way more than I thought the injury called for.)

I was sent to my table and spent the rest of free time, in detention, my head on my folded forearms, "thinking" about my crime.

Actually, I remember being VERY angry. I hadn't done it on purpose. Didn't things not count if you didn't do them on purpose?


OF COURSE they don't count if you didn't mean them! The one thing I remember about kindergarten was the girl that sat next to me was ALWAYS kicking my chair. Your name isn't really Kimberly, is it? :)

JK!

:RN: :)
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I'm not a chair kicker. (That's so totally beneath me!)

Another kindergarten memory I have is there was this girl named Vicki who bit me, hard, on the arm. Now, if I would have been teasing her at the time, or if she would have been the one I clobbered with the broom, I could have understood it. But it was a shock--out of thin air. I was standing waiting by the outside wall, waiting for my older sister, when she walked up and bit me.

I hated the name Vicki for a long time. I've known some nice Victoria's since, but it made a big impression on me. (and on my arm.)
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