It's been said that all you really need to know is what you learned in kindergarten. I've discovered that this isn't true. Six-year-olds don't understand very much about life or even themselves, much less the way things will be in the future. Here's a taste.
It may be years or even decades after your graduation from kindergarten, but eventually...
1. You won't even wonder whether that small object will fit up your nose.
2. You'll appreciate some bitterness in your drinks in the morning and evening, in your sauces, and in your friends.
3. You'll enjoy bouncing on the bed for a different reason.
4. Chasing after your playground love interest to plant a kiss will never lose its excitement, but the court hearings and restraining orders will take up more of your time.
5. Someone really will be the boss of you.
6. (for girls) You may still cry if you wear uncomfortable shoes, but you'll be wearing them by choice.
7. (for boys) You may still play soldier, but men and women actually in uniform will think it's creepy rather than cute.
8. Reading books without pictures of farm animals will be fun.
9. You may hear remarks from relatives about how much you've grown, but these will not be complimentary.
10. You'll realize that those people your parents didn't trust because they were different from you really aren't very much different from you.


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Comments
and while I don't have a boss, per se, I do have a mantra that can substitute: "Let's compromise and do it Eve's way" which has seen us last 30 years of marriage this coming year, and still in love.
As always dear friend, I love what appears from your typing, your thoughts.
John, in some of my classes I will mention that no one ever brings me an apple; a couple of times that has prompted a small gift.
Barry, I'd forgotten about people who are independently wealthy or self-employed or just down and out. But if I may offer a saccharine, AA-inspired sentiment, we probably all recognize some higher power. You have a good one. :-)
Don, that one took a bit of thought. Jail time? Too dark. Restraining order--that's the ticket.
Thanks, AHP! I fiddled with the ordering a bit, I guess to good effect.
Thanks, Sheila!
This was really worth the read.
RATED
http://open.salon.com/blog/jimgalt/2010/02/15/everything_i_know_i_learned_from
Hey, Julie, glad I could lighten your day.
Thanks, older/exasperated. I'm both, too.
Interesting, Rick. When I was in third grade, three kids would leave during certain classes for special instruction. I think two of them were very smart and one had a learning disability. They were exceptional, but in different ways.
I like the idea of learning everything from Mentos commercials, Jim.
Jury's out on #10 with me. I have begun to think my parents were right.
One of my personal benefits to not being 6 is that I no longer cry with hair washing or brushing.
R
That’s interesting, Rob. Do you recall how those students were viewed and treated by their peers?
I knew kids like that, too, and they were usually not well received; they were, I think, mostly just tolerated.
The problem, as I see it, is that exceptional is not really appreciated in American culture. It is paid lip-service, but in the end, it is normal that is sought out. Exceptional has to break through the fear of exceptional and that is a daunting task. All around us are barriers that are culturally and institutionally implemented. I think this is a by-product of the fact that we are culturally forced to compete against each other for our livelihoods, and since by definition we cannot all be exceptional, exceptional is outcast and it is seen as a threat. Of course, when it does manage to break through, it is undeniable and so it is recognized and appreciated, at least by most who recognize it. I’m glad it breaks through from time to time.
But let’s face it, exceptional is outside the box, it is often deviant whether in a good way or not, and people are generally threatened by it in one way or another.