Oh man...first grade.

I didn't feel great when I woke up. My parents were old-school - if you didn't have a verifiable fever, your ass was going to school, no matter how sick you felt. I told me mom I didn't feel well. She checked my forehead - it didn't feel hot. "Try and eat something", she said. OK. Two bowls of Cocoa Puffs, a giant glass of orange juice, and I still didn't feel better. In fact, I felt terrible. Too bad for me, I was going to school.

I went to a catholic school. Once a week, we went to mass first thing in the morning. This day happened to be mass day. Half way though mass, the kneeling, standing, sitting, routine had me feeling really bad. I remember kneeling and feeling that something was very wrong. The first wave hit me. I pressed my hands over my mouth - hard. My stomach tightens, I wretch but the pressure was too much. My hands are now serving more like a sprinkler head - vomit spraying in a 360 degree circle out from my face and hands.

We sat in alternating rows of girls and boys. The poor girls in front of me, were kneeling. I started vomiting in their pew. It was winter, their pew seat was right beneath my head and it was filled with the winter coats of the girls. The girls were kneeling, and now they were screaming, pressing themselves into the bannister in front of their kneelers, trying to get as far away from me as possible. I was puking on their seat, on their coats, and now on the backs of their legs.

I stood up knowing that I had to get out of the church. The boys were afraid to move out into the aisle because it was the middle of mass and leaving your seat during mass was a sure ticket to getting your ass spanked by an old angry nun. I stumbled and tripped several times over a half-dozen kneeling boys on my way out of the pew - spewing over everyone the entire time.

So now I've spewed on about half the girls in class, their coats, half the boys in class, and their coats too. I reach the center aisle where my wide-eyed teacher (Ms. Quinn) grabbed me and hauled ass to the back of the church. I spew the entire way. The church had carpeting. I left a trail of half-digested chocolate cereal, milk, and OJ all the way down the main aisle.

I spew all of the way to the bathrooms. I sure could puke in those days. My teacher tried to drag me into the ladies room - I panicked and stopped - I can't go into the woman's bathroom I said, tugging away from my teacher. I puked again - on her shoes. She pleaded/reasoned with me, "It's ok, you're SICK!".

I relented and she dragged me into the ladies bathroom. I remember thinking, "Huh...it looks different than the boy's bathroom". I was also now done puking. I was green, sweaty, and exhausted....but at least I didn't have to puke anymore. My teacher looked like she wanted to cry.

Everyone hated me. My mom had to pick me up. My principal told her what I did. She looked mortified. I told her that I told her that I was sick.

I found out when I went back to school that the nuns took everyone's winter coats to the nun-house and had to launder them (as well as the clothes of a handful of kids who really got sprayed with my puke). I really screwed up everyone's day.