Animal Crackers in My Soup...and Psyche

Lions and tigers and bears...  Oh, my!!!

As much as I love them, I can’t look at a package of animal crackers without flinching. Why? Well, sit back because I’m going to tell you.

It all started on the first day of kindergarten. We were given construction paper nametags with an animal cracker glued on for decoration. The teacher had us sit cross-legged on the floor while she gave a little welcome speech that I must not have been listening to very closely because I was busy eating the animal cracker off of my nametag. Well, more like gnawing, since I didn’t even bother to take it off. But, what I did hear quite plainly was, “Make sure to wear your nametags to school tomorrow.”

I looked down at mine in horror. There was nothing but a big, wet slobber mark where the animal cracker used to be.

Well, now I’d done it! Obviously I couldn’t go back to school because I’d eaten the animal cracker off of my nametag. Only five years old and my life was ruined. It was just the first day and already I’d flunked out. Better I had died in my cradle than to put my family through such shame. (My drama queen tendencies started very early.)

Mother was ever-practical. “We’ll just buy a box of animal crackers and glue one on to replace the one you ate,” she reasoned. More panic. I couldn’t remember exactly what kind of animal had been on that darned nametag. Nothing she or my father said could convince me that I wouldn’t get graded on that sort of thing.

While the replacement animal cookie dried on my nametag, I spent a restless night in my canopy bed tossing, turning and going over different scenarios in my mind. I just knew that Mrs. Pogue was going to greet me at the door asking: “Marsie Hall, is that a buffalo on your nametag? Where is the elephant that was assigned to you? What have you done with it? Speak up! What’s that you say? YOU ATE IT? Do you realize what you have done? You are a disgrace to the morning kindergarten. Pack up your crayons and get out. Never darken the door of Robert D. Johnson grade school ever again!”

Mother drove me to school the next day. I wanted her to wait and keep the car running so I could make a quick escape, but the teacher never noticed.

Imagine that!