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After Dinner Memory

For today’s Non-Sequitur Thursday post, I shall recount for you a memory which is not one I have shared many times in conversation. In fact, I don’t think I have ever shared it, although it is neither traumatic nor even particularly significant. Oh good job, Cindy, way to sell it. This is what I get for posting after dinner at Applebee’s during which I consumed a Perfect Margarita. Never mind. Just keep typing.

When I was in kindergarten, the teacher told us that when you get a cut, the skin grows back. This was news to me. I knew you got a scab and eventually the scab went away, but I had never really inquired into the biological aspect (especially since I believe I did not know the words “inquired,” “biological” or “aspect”).

Later that day or perhaps the next day (this was a long time ago; I can’t be exact about these things), the teacher cut her finger.

“Oh dear, I cut my finger,” she said. “That’s OK, it’ll grow back.”

I remember thinking that it was the stupidest thing to say. I knew she had only said it because we had just learned about skin growing back. I mean, who says a thing like that? Who even worries about the skin growing back? We all knew: you get a scab and the scab goes away eventually. When you cut yourself you are upset because (1) it hurts and (2) your mother might put that stuff on it that stings. Your other concern is that you might get a band-aid, which of course was considered cool, but that was rarely the first consideration.

My esteem for my teacher was not too seriously damaged (no, I didn’t know what “esteem” was at that time), because in general she was a pretty OK grown up. And yet, that is one of the few things I remember about the woman (I don’t even remember her name): that one time she said what I thought was a really dumb thing.

And speaking as a person who has said some really stupid things myself, I gotta worry about what others remember about me.

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