I'm a Pre-School Dropout....

Not to be confused with Beauty School Dropout

I'm being dead-serious.  Not only am I a dropout, I was kicked out.  Oh yeah, I was bad-ass.  You know it.   But like all juvenile delinquents: it was the way I was raised.  You know the environment a child is raised in can really effect later behavior and socialization.  And I was raised by wolves.  I had trouble communicating my feelings to the other children.  

I'm being literal.  I was always in the company of my dog, Tucker (who was female, as were Jake and Charlie).  And I was kicked out for growling at the other children.

You read that correctly.  I liked to growl at the other children.

It's not like they didn't deserve it. They weren't furry, or cute, or in any way useful to me.  I had to share the crayons, when clearly they couldn't color as well as me, so why bother?  I mean, only stupid kids color "red squirrels" red.  It's clearly a species name, because I'd never seen a red squirrel.

Plus, they got all up in my personal bubble, usually accompanied with snot or spit bubbles as young kids are apt to do.  OH NO they didn't.  We've already discussed my personal bubble, so I don't feel the need to reiterate.

And as far as I was concerned, it was effective.  I was kicked out of preschool and only entered into another program when my sister was ready to come with me.  Little did my parents know that she's really the instigator, so this was not going to make me more socially acceptable. Puh-lease.

But, the violence didn't stop.  

There was this girl, no names on the blog, who was an entitled little brat, and I knew that before I even knew what "entitled" meant. I mean, she was just a regular buttface, as we were apt to say at that age.  

It was show and tell.  My sister and I are opposites, but at the time we got along very well.  We were both excited for show and tell.  I had brought a toy rubber snake I'd gotten from a Blue Angels show in Rhode Island.  My sister brought a Barbie Doll.

So Ms. Buttface decides to ruin my sisters day.  She stole my sister's show and tell doll, on show and tell day.  Them's fighting actions!!!! (Yes, I know the phrase is "fighting words", if she said anything I don't remember)

But, she had to take it a step further.  Ms. Buttface ripped the head off of the Barbie doll.  Even I know, (and I preferred my dinosaur toys) that when you pop the head off a Barbie doll it doesn't ever go back on right, the joint inside there is broken and there is no good way to connect it.  To save the doll you essentially push the head on so much that the Barbie has a severely shortened neck.  So basically, the doll is ruined.

Now, did we remember my toy? You should, I'm the important one here.  I had a rubber snake.  And Ms. Buttface did not like meeting the snake.  

An appropriate weapon, considering the circumstances.  Mine was this pattern but mostly black and a little green.

To clarify, after the decapitation of the doll, I chased her around flailing the rubber snake until I caught her, at which point I beat her with the rubber snake until she gave me the doll back.  As far as I'm concerned, I was being the good older sibling sticking up for my little sister.  I don't remember my sisters reactions to my action.  She was probably mortified, which just makes her ungrateful.

I still know the girl.  She doesn't remember me as her assailant, and I left it that way.  I still think she's an entitled brat, but unfortunately I've learned that you can go to jail for beating those kinds of girls that way now.  In preschool, it was "cute and funny".  I guess that reasoning doesn't fly anymore.  

I think this is part of what lead me to be the introverted, pessimistic, and generally angry person I've become today.  I have no faith in people.  I have every faith in dogs, they were always the better companions, and their communication is concise and serves to keep most species away.  My target species being humans of course. 

Sometimes, it just seems like rather then swearing and bitching someone out, you just want to growl at them. Oh yeah. I said it.  Too bad that unlike dogs, you can't follow it with a snap or a slap.  

So I'm a little weird, but I'm still bad-ass.  I mean, how many people can say they are a pre-school dropout?

That's what I thought.