A Vomit Story

My kindergarten class was divided into two smaller classrooms that would unite for snacktime and playtime. My teacher, Ms. Grimmer, was mousy and sweet. She read me books and acted out the different voices. I loved her. The other teacher, Mrs. Necessary, was beautiful, with black hair and high cheekbones. She reminded me of the wicked queen from Snow White. She was harsh and mean, and I hated her.

One of the chief joys of my childhood (and to be honest, my adulthood) was to buy a fancy new outfit. The day of the incident, I was sporting a new high-waisted sundress dress of cornflower blue and a pattern of pink flowers. My Nana had taken me to Sears to purchase it with my Papa's employee discount. I was also allowed to buy new sandals and a necklace/bracelet set to match. When I put my new outfit on that morning, I felt like a fairy princess. To express my joy, I twirled several times in front of the full length mirror in my bathroom. I headed to school, my head in the clouds.

Upon my arrival, Ms. Grimmer commented on my pretty new dress. I beamed with pride.

The school day progressed as normal. First, art corner, where we were gluing beans to paper. I was very careful with the glue, because I did not want to soil my fancy frock. We progressed to reading corner, where we read my favorite, the Three Bears. Ms. Grimmer's papa bear voice was the best.

After storytime, the classes combined for playtime. As usual, we played house, and I was the mommy. That meant that I got to wear the apron and cook pretend macaroni at the kitchen center. Sherry, one of my pretend children and best friends, complained that she didn't feel well. I gave her imaginary 7-Up for her tummy, a magical cure that my mommy always gave me.

"Children," Mrs. Necessary called out, "it is time to form a line for the cafeteria. It is snacktime."

We lined up, and were marched single-file to the stage in the cafeteria. Because we were in half-day kindergarten, we were not allowed to mingle with the other, older children. We had snacktime behind the stage curtain, among the dusty props and extra tables. Mrs. Necessary waited until we were seated to call for special helpers. Nathan and Sean were selected, and set about passing out the cartons of white milk and tiny boxes of peanuts and raisins.

I was not a fan of white milk, peanuts or raisins, but we were required to eat them. "It will make you strong and healthy" they told us. We sat and chewed obediently. When the allotted 15 minutes were up, Mrs. Necessary clapped her hands to get our attention.

"Children, it is time to line up so that we may return to class. Please pick up your empty containers and deposit them in the trash can."

We lined up, and just as Mrs. Necessary was explaining the importance of silence in the hallway, Sherry vomited a mix of milk, raisins, and peanuts down my back. It puddled in my sandals, and splashed onto Mrs. Necessary's high heels. When I realized the indignity of my situation, I began to howl.

"Sherry threw up on my dress," I screamed. "Call my mommy."

Mrs. Necessary's eye's got very big.

"Rebel, calm yourself. You are not the only one that was soiled. You will be fine. Use these papertowels to clean yourself."

"I can't" I sobbed, "it's all over me. I stink. I need to go home."

"You will be fine for the rest of the day. Stop that crying this instant."

She forced me to return to class. My hair smelled of vomit, and my wet dress clung to my back. No one wanted to sit by me during shape centers. The bell for the end of day took forever to ring.

Because of this torture, I did not allow myself to vomit for over 15 years.

Mrs. Necessary, I still fucking hate you.