Thursday
Aug122010
Writer's Workshop: 6-21-3-11
Thursday, August 12, 2010 at 7:47AM
This is my first meme! Woo hoo! I'm so excited.
This meme is from MamaKat at Mama's Losin' It. It's her weekly Writer's Workshop.
The prompt I chose is: The craziest reason I ever got in trouble as a child.
Except I'm going to write about the craziest reason I ever THOUGHT I was going to get in trouble as a child, but didn't.
In third grade two of my friends and I were into codes. Namely, writing notes in codes so that other people couldn't decipher them. The code we had going at the time was numerical. We had a number for each letter of the alphabet. Cleverly enough, it went like this: A=1, B=2 (I don't need to do further, do I?).
AND, not only was I international spy-like in my cleverness, I was also Type A-like in my organization. I made up decoder charts that had a flap that closed and tucked into the corners. If I could have figured out how to attach a retinal scanner and still have it fit in my pencil box, I would have.
Shortly after starting our secret ring of numerical secretness, we discovered that we could spell all kinds of things without having people know. Namely, curse words. And even more namely, the F word.
F=6
U=21
C=3
K=11
Six, twenty one, three, eleven.
We wrote those numbers everywhere. We wrote them so often I STILL recall those four numbers like a nursery rhyme. Then we got bold and started writing them during recess in chalk on the paved parts of the playground. There they were, for the WORLD to see!
Six, twenty one, three, eleven.
For the TEACHERS to see! Ha! Look at all these teachers with their unknowing ways as they paced over SIX. TWENTY ONE. THREE. ELEVEN.
I was such a good kid and this was SO bad. So, so, so bad. I started to get nervous and anxious. What if they found out? What if they found out my friends and I were writing FUCK all over the place? Oh, God. What if they found out that I was the one who created our code? What if the MASTERMIND BEHIND IT ALL WAS EXPOSED?!
It got so I couldn't sleep. I couldn't concentrate in class. I tore up my decoder chart. But there were still two others out there. How could I get my hands on them before the teachers did? Before they called my parents? BEFORE I WAS SENTENCED TO DEATH BY BEHEADING?
A plan was hatched. I would offer to clean out my friends' pencil boxes - like I said, I was very good at organization - and I would take their charts and tear them up just like I had my own (which was a shame because I had done SUCH a good job on them). But, what would they think when they got their boxes back with no chart? Would they ask me about it? Would I tell them I didn't know what they were talking about? If I told them I destroyed it, they might tell on me and I'd be facing the guillotine again.
I had to risk it.
They handed over their boxes, no problem. Ha! My plan was working and they had no idea. I emptied out the boxes, carefully sliding the charts in my desk and swiftly brining my hands back to tabletop level as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. My master plan completed with two highly clean and organized pencil boxes ready to go back to their owners - sans decoder charts.
I handed them back with a steady hand and a nervous heart.
I waited.
Nothing.
I waited longer.
Nothing.
I kept waiting.
Hadn't they opened their pencil boxes by now?! Jesus!
Nothing.
Nothing ever happened. I never got in trouble. But really, why would I? My friends never mentioned about the missing charts.
But for a solid week, I was scared 19-8-9-20-less.
This meme is from MamaKat at Mama's Losin' It. It's her weekly Writer's Workshop.
The prompt I chose is: The craziest reason I ever got in trouble as a child.
Except I'm going to write about the craziest reason I ever THOUGHT I was going to get in trouble as a child, but didn't.
In third grade two of my friends and I were into codes. Namely, writing notes in codes so that other people couldn't decipher them. The code we had going at the time was numerical. We had a number for each letter of the alphabet. Cleverly enough, it went like this: A=1, B=2 (I don't need to do further, do I?).
AND, not only was I international spy-like in my cleverness, I was also Type A-like in my organization. I made up decoder charts that had a flap that closed and tucked into the corners. If I could have figured out how to attach a retinal scanner and still have it fit in my pencil box, I would have.
Shortly after starting our secret ring of numerical secretness, we discovered that we could spell all kinds of things without having people know. Namely, curse words. And even more namely, the F word.
F=6
U=21
C=3
K=11
Six, twenty one, three, eleven.
We wrote those numbers everywhere. We wrote them so often I STILL recall those four numbers like a nursery rhyme. Then we got bold and started writing them during recess in chalk on the paved parts of the playground. There they were, for the WORLD to see!
Six, twenty one, three, eleven.
For the TEACHERS to see! Ha! Look at all these teachers with their unknowing ways as they paced over SIX. TWENTY ONE. THREE. ELEVEN.
I was such a good kid and this was SO bad. So, so, so bad. I started to get nervous and anxious. What if they found out? What if they found out my friends and I were writing FUCK all over the place? Oh, God. What if they found out that I was the one who created our code? What if the MASTERMIND BEHIND IT ALL WAS EXPOSED?!
It got so I couldn't sleep. I couldn't concentrate in class. I tore up my decoder chart. But there were still two others out there. How could I get my hands on them before the teachers did? Before they called my parents? BEFORE I WAS SENTENCED TO DEATH BY BEHEADING?
A plan was hatched. I would offer to clean out my friends' pencil boxes - like I said, I was very good at organization - and I would take their charts and tear them up just like I had my own (which was a shame because I had done SUCH a good job on them). But, what would they think when they got their boxes back with no chart? Would they ask me about it? Would I tell them I didn't know what they were talking about? If I told them I destroyed it, they might tell on me and I'd be facing the guillotine again.
I had to risk it.
They handed over their boxes, no problem. Ha! My plan was working and they had no idea. I emptied out the boxes, carefully sliding the charts in my desk and swiftly brining my hands back to tabletop level as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. My master plan completed with two highly clean and organized pencil boxes ready to go back to their owners - sans decoder charts.
I handed them back with a steady hand and a nervous heart.
I waited.
Nothing.
I waited longer.
Nothing.
I kept waiting.
Hadn't they opened their pencil boxes by now?! Jesus!
Nothing.
Nothing ever happened. I never got in trouble. But really, why would I? My friends never mentioned about the missing charts.
But for a solid week, I was scared 19-8-9-20-less.
Copyright; 2011, Blahggy. All rights reserved.
Reader Comments (8)
that was the definition of CUTE!! thanx for the smiles. i can always depend on at least 2 smirks from your blog:)
BWAAAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! LOVE it. We should have been playground buddies, I would have corrupted you further :) Retinal scanners in your pencil case, that is the best thing I've read all week. LOVE. IT.
Thanks for the props on my SITS day :) You must have done some mighty good deeds in your last lifetime to have been spared the ring of fire. 6 21 3 11 you.
Hysterical! Especially the last line. The stuff we worry about as kids...I take it from this, you were a pretty damn good kid.
hahaha, this is awesome- I forgot about writing notes in class! And I think I remember doing the numbers thing a few times- so clever!
Hey Shelly! Glad you liked it and glad you get smirks from my blog! I love when you visit!!
If you were the kind of kid who would have tried to corrupt me further, I likely would have been scared of you and stayed away! Hope your SITS day rocked. I'll be stopping by soon!
Notes in class was the way to get through the day! My friends and I had small NOTEBOOKS and we'd write in those and just trade throughout the day!
I was a crazy good kid. I could be SUPER annoying, but I was good. My parents said they'd be all, "Whoa, where'd we get this kid?" when I'd come home from school and say, "Hey, gotta go upstairs and get my homework done."