I started out my educational experience at Hanna Woods Elementary School. In first grade I had a wonderful teacher Mrs. S. I was a good student but was also painfully shy. I didn't raise my hand in class, I didn't chatter away to my friends behind the teacher's back, in fact I spoke as little as possible. Partially, I imagine, due to the fact that I had a fantastic speech impediment that prevented me from pronouncing my R's correctly. Talk about making the name Abrea even more confusing. I pronounced it Abwea and then didn't understand why no one could say my name correctly.
This is all beside the point. The story I am trying to tell is of the day Mrs. S decided that the shyest girl in class should be the one she sends on an errand. I had brought in cupcakes for the class because it was my birthday. I am still a little confused as to why we used to bring in our own birthday treats; shouldn't someone have treated me since it was my birthday? Again I am sidetracking, I brought in cupcakes that my mother had made out of a box the night before. Cupcakes which, by the way, I didn't like since I don't like cake. So, not only did I have to help make my own birthday treat, but it was a treat I didn't even like.
I got to class with my cupcakes and all the kids enjoyed scarfing down their overdose of sugar at 9:00 in the morning. There were a few cupcakes left over and Mrs. S didn't want to let them go to waste. That is when she decided to traumatize me for life. I am sure she thought it was an innocent request but to me I felt like I had been shot. Mrs. S instructed me to take one of the extra cupcakes and give it to the school's principal. I was mortified. Not only did I not know my way around the school or where the office was, I had no idea who the principal was. I mean, I was only six years old. Am I suppose to have directional awareness at that age? But did I tell Mrs. S that I had no idea where to take the cupcake? Of course not, I was shy and didn't want to say anything.
I wandered out of the classroom clutching the cupcake thinking what a wonderful birthday this was turning out to be. I started meandering down the hallways in the direction I hoped would land me in the office that I swear I had never seen before. I only knew how to get to my classroom. Whenever we went anywhere during school I just followed the kids in front of me not paying attention to which turns we were making. I eventually made it to a large open area which must have been the entrance hallway to the school. My chest was tight, I was having trouble breathing and I was debating just throwing the cupcake in a trash can, returning to class, and hoping Mrs. S never asked out principal how her cupcake was. My mind was racing trying to remember if I had ever met or seen the principal before. Was the principal a male or a female? I had no idea. And I couldn't ask anyone. I mean, asking a stupid question like that would obviously give me a heat attack.
Eventually after wandering in the lobby for a while a kind looking lady came out of what I assume now was the office and asked me where I was suppose to be going. Tears were filling my eyes because I was sure I was going to get in trouble. I managed to squeak out that I was suppose to take this now smooshed cupcake to the principal because it was my birthday. She smiled and giggled a little before telling me that she, in fact, was the principal. I was even more mortified. I had just walked up the the principal of the school and asked where the principal was. She was definitely going to kick me out of school now. But of course she didn't. She graciously accepted the disgusting looking flattened cupcake and helped me find my way back to the classroom. Mrs. S took no notice to the fact that I had just had a complete panic attack at her request and kept on teaching the class unaware of what she had caused me.
I, of course, now have a very irrational fear of always getting lost everywhere I go. When traveling to a new place I always insist on using Google maps so I can get exact directions and also use the street view so I can see exactly where I am going. Also, if possible, I Google the person I am meeting so I know what they look like. Call me crazy but Mrs. S, unbeknown to her, scarred me for life on my 6th birthday.
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