The last time I wrote about myself, it was about a memory from preschool. For this one, I'm going to keep the preschool theme going and tell another story from those days. This one, though, is the story of why I don't like peanut butter. Weird, right?
Okay, so the story starts in preschool, obviously. It was St. Patrick's Day, and I had arrived at my preschool. There were the typical morning activities--circle time, free play, etc. But, since it was St. Patrick's Day, we were also having a leprechaun hunt because that's the type of stuff four/five year olds enjoy. So, we went out to the playground to search for the leprechauns. There were little clues all over, so my classmates and I were running all around the yard looking for this leprechaun. As planned, my teacher called us in for lunch before we could find the leprechaun. We stood in line at the sink and waited our turn to wash our hands. Next, we carried our lunchboxes to the little lunchroom. My mom usually packed me the same thing for lunch, so it was no surprise when I opened up my lunchbox to see half of a peanut butter sandwich and whatever sides she chose to pack that day. I had no issue with this peanut butter sandwich--after all, I LOVED peanut butter. Starting to eat the sandwich, I noticed it wasn't sitting right. I told my teacher my tummy hurt, but she told me to continue eating. Finally, when I couldn't wait any longer, I threw the sandwich up all over the floor. The teacher who didn't believe me rushed to get me changed.
I haven't had peanut butter since that day.
Okay, so the story starts in preschool, obviously. It was St. Patrick's Day, and I had arrived at my preschool. There were the typical morning activities--circle time, free play, etc. But, since it was St. Patrick's Day, we were also having a leprechaun hunt because that's the type of stuff four/five year olds enjoy. So, we went out to the playground to search for the leprechauns. There were little clues all over, so my classmates and I were running all around the yard looking for this leprechaun. As planned, my teacher called us in for lunch before we could find the leprechaun. We stood in line at the sink and waited our turn to wash our hands. Next, we carried our lunchboxes to the little lunchroom. My mom usually packed me the same thing for lunch, so it was no surprise when I opened up my lunchbox to see half of a peanut butter sandwich and whatever sides she chose to pack that day. I had no issue with this peanut butter sandwich--after all, I LOVED peanut butter. Starting to eat the sandwich, I noticed it wasn't sitting right. I told my teacher my tummy hurt, but she told me to continue eating. Finally, when I couldn't wait any longer, I threw the sandwich up all over the floor. The teacher who didn't believe me rushed to get me changed.
I haven't had peanut butter since that day.
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| (Image information: My personal preschool picture circa 2005) |
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