Ripping Through the Music

Bad memories seem to stick with a person like bad credit stays on a credit report. No matter how simple the situation it stays...like the time I was in preschool and spilled a cup of orange juice, which left the table sticky or the time in first grade when "Thomas" told the teacher I mouthed the words: Liar, Liar, pants on fire," about the her and then I cried in front of the whole class, when confronted about it, but the worst had to be the time during music class in third grade.

Our music teacher "Mr. Hines" was very serious about class. I was excited on this particular day because, I brought in my "Little Mermaid Music Book" that went with my recorder, that I got for Christmas that year. He was very excited about it and after our lesson we all sat around his piano to sing the songs as he played. Sitting in front of me was a boy that I had a huge crush on; he had the best red hair and freckles. He was so cool too. During this time in the 90's it was cool to wear overalls with the straps hanging instead of having them buckled up. While we all were singing, this other girl and I, being mischievous eight-year-olds that we were began playing with the hanging straps which were lying on the floor behind my crush. As the teacher's back was turn we tugged at the straps finding it to be hilarious. We dropped them as the teacher looked back at the class. When he turned to the piano again my friend grabbed one strap. I reach out and grabbed the other, but something went wrong, because as I grabbed there was a loud ripping sound and my heart sank as everyone looked back at me. The class was quiet and the teacher noticed what happened. The next moments are a blur with tears, tears and tears. "Mr. Hines" yelled at us. Now all I hear in my memories are him yelling and it sounding like "WOMP, WOM, WOMP, WOM," but to the eight-year-old, goodie two shoes that I was back then, he might as well had thrown darts at me. He told me and the other girl to go to our seats and put our heads down. At my desk I cried and cried and cried to the point that there was a small puddle on my desk, just as if I'd spilled that orange juice all over again. When the class was over the music teacher meanly handed the book back to me and said: "Thank you for the book, but not for your behavior." That only made me sadder. I wiped the desk with my sleeves and went along with the class back to our classroom. I watched and listened to the music teacher rant to our teacher, "Mrs. O'Braxton" about our disaster or at least that is how the music teacher acted. The way he acted it was as if ripping my crush's pants was like ripping the piano in half. She asked us what happened and after we explained I stood up and apologized to my crush as my voice cracked with more tears on the horizon. He accepted luckily for me.

Interestingly enough "Mrs. O'Braxton" didn't punish us. She didn't seem to care. Matter of fact the same thing happened to the same boy and his mother was upset, but I remember "Mrs. O'Braxton" speaking to another teacher saying, "If he would wear them as he should this wouldn't happen." She never told my mom and to this day my mom doesn't know about it. It all blew over, as if someone said: "Oh well." I think that as a child I was more hurt because it was my crush, "Mr. Hines" yelling didn't help, but I didn't want my crush to be mad at me. He barely wanted to be my to be my friend, I could only imagine what ripping his pants would do to our association. Looking back, I have a few choice words to say about the music teacher. Ultimately he was the one who freaked out the most. He wanted "Mrs. O'Braxton" to punish like criminals, but "Mrs. O'Braxton" was a great teacher who saw the ridiculousness of the music teacher. I didn't have to be punished because I had already beat myself up for what I had done, a trait that I still do to myself when I make mistakes, and I learned from the mistakes. Of course with the lesson learned, the mistake to learn that lesson is also inscribed in my memories.