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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a story about me as a kid in not a very good moment, but an eye opening observation

Submitted: December 26, 2018

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Submitted: December 26, 2018



In the early 70s, i went to a Catholic grade school here in New Jersey. Every first Friday of the month, the entire school was rounded up, to go to First Friday Mass. In one way it was great, because after mass was over, we were able to go home, which means we got a half day. But on the other hand, on this particular first Friday, it was a bit more than i could chew, but also very "eye opening."

It was a February,and it was a very cold Friday. Around 10 o'clock, we had our recess, and that was when you get your milk, whether it be chocolate, or regular. I, of course went with chocolate. Also, at recess they would also have candy on sale. So, i bought a candy bar, i forget the name, but a candy bar and chocolate milk i guess wasn't a very good thing to put together. You got to remember, this was the !970's, so we weren't as knowledgable in the proper things to eat as we are now. So, after having my "nutritous"snack", our teacher told us to put away our books and to get our coats to get ready to head over to the church for the mass.

Standing in a straight line, we marched out the classroom door, as well as the other seven classes, and as good little Christians soldiers, we marched down the street into the church. Now, i mentioned earlier that it was a cold Friday, but not in that church. The heat was blasting in the church that day, i think the priest had the janitor turn up the heat on high to make us afraid of going to hell. Speaking of priest, our priest was one of these old time irish priest. I mean, if he wasn't a priest, he could be in the movies playing a priest, a cop, or an irish gangster. He was about 6'4 with salt and pepper hair, and chisled features, i mean it looked like someone took a hammer and chisled and carved his face out of a mountain. As a priest he took no shit, and of course, being a good priest, he had his Jamerson right next to the sacramental wine. He would always do a shot before a mass, "sakes be to glory."

So, here were about 100 plus kids and teachers, the principal with our priest giving us a sermon about the devil, or Jonah and the whale or something about some type of sin that we were to young to commit, or couldn't  understand even if we wanted to commit that sin. As he kept going on it seems that the church was getting hotter, and i wasn't feeling so well. Could it have been the candy and the chocolate milk, or maybe the wafer was stale, but all communion wafers, taste like they are stale. Maybe the wine was off, or maybe the priest put in Jamerson into the chalase? Well, as soon as the priest gave the final blessing, he says, "Leave now and go in peace." thats when it happened. We were sitting behind the third grade class, and i felt it coming up and there was no way to stop it. It was like the parting of the Red Sea, one of the kids in front of me just happened to turn around and he saw me with that look on a persons face before he is about to throw up. He pushed two kids standing next to him to the left, and by then the other kids to the right, they also moved, and thats when it happened,"BBBLLLAAAHHH!!!" I threw up all over the pew in front of me. Everyone turned around to see what had happened, the other kids, teachers, the principal, the priest,even the devil if he was lurking about.

Well, my teacher took me out of church and back to the classroom to clean me up. I felt so embarrassed, but my teacher said don't worry about it. After cleaning me up she sat me down, and got out my file so she could call my house and tell my mom what happened, and  that she would take me home. And take me home she did.

Now this was a Catholic school, and we had nuns and teachers, and my second grade teacher didn't dress alot of times that the nuns would like her to dress, even she got called to the principals office for how she dressed, and today was on of those days. First, she gets me into her car, it was a 1966 now get this," chocolate brown" mustang with tan interior. Being winter time, she was dressed as it was spring, she had on a green blouse with two buttons undone, a mini skirt, (if you don't know what that is, google it) and black leather boots that went just below the knee.

So here i am, 8 years old sick as a dog, but i'm checking out my second grade teacher as she is shifting her car into gear. I can still picture it, clutch, gas,clutch, gas, brake, those long legs in those black boots moving those pedals.Was this what the priest was talking about in church? Didn't care, because getting sick in church, i guess prove to have a silver lining. 

We arrive at my house and she walks me up the stairs, and rings the bell. My mom answers the door, and my teacher says" that i had a little accident in church," and with that she  rubbed my head, She said to me that i hope that i feel better and that i will see you on Monday. 

I got to the bathroom to clean up and then i went to bed, all the while thinking about that ride home from my teacher. Hmmm, whats that stirring underneath my blanket?


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