Recess was just around the corner as Mrs. Smith just finished up writing that nights math homework on the whiteboard. “Questions 3-12,” it said, (or was it 8-15), due Tuesday, or Thursday… I rubbed my eyes a bit, but I still could not make out what the assignment was. I then asked Karen, the girl who sat next to me, “what exactly is the homework?”
“3-12, Tuesday,” she said, “can you not see the board?”
“No it’s all fuzzy, I can’t tell which numbers are which,” I replied apprehensively.
Mrs. Smith continued talking about the homework. Every word went in one ear and right out the other. All I could focus on were the numbers she left behind her on the board. Why couldn’t I read them any more? Was I becoming less intelligent? My head began to hurt from staring at the board so hard, my palms got sweaty, and my vision began to grow increasingly cloudy. However, all of my arithmetic anguish seemed to dissipate as suddenly as it began. The time had finally arrived, recess!
The class quickly rose from their seats and everyone dispersed across the designated play area. Like many others, I ran straight to the tetherball courts as soon as that recess bell rang. I loved tetherball. All day I would sit anxiously waiting for that freedom bell to ring, because I knew that it meant it was time for tetherball. The game was simple, hit a ball that is attached to a string and tied to a pole. Who ever gets the ball completely rapped around the pole wins.
The first game went underway as I served the ball with tremendous skill. It whipped around the pole at least 4 times; it was a great start. But all of a sudden … POW! The Next thing I knew I was down on the ground with Mrs. Smith running toward me.
“Sweetie, are you okay!?” she asked.
“Uh, I think so. What happened?”
“You got hit right in the face with the tetherball, Hun. Here, let me help you up. Then we’ll go down to the nurses office,” she said holding out her hand.
“Really? I didn’t see it...