The First Day of School

I was not an attractive child. I was very overweight and for some reason Mom thought my hair looked good in a mullet. I was also the tallest kid in my class (although I stopped growing and am now a member of the Lollipop Guild). I tell you this to set the stage for the first day of sixth grade. We had just moved to Virginia and I had exactly one friend, who was not going to the same school as I was. Also I was very into wearing boys' clothing, such as plaid polo shirts and corduroys. So. There I was, the most awkward girl on the face of the earth. And I needed to buy school supplies.

Phyl is always on the lookout for a bargain or some creative way to use crap from around the house. She saved Cool Whip containers for years before I finally buried them in the backyard during the dark of night - she was certain she could repurpose them as, I don't know, tiny bedpans or something. Anyway, this particular school year, Mom had accidentally bought me folders that had no pockets in them. I pointed out her error and was taking my mullet-festooned self out to the car for a return trip to the store, when I heard, "Well, wait a minute..." And then I knew that this would not be a good first day of school.

Mom's brilliant idea was to cut up a brown paper bag and staple sections to the folder to create pockets. I don't know if you heard me, so let me reiterate: SHE MADE FOLDER POCKETS OUT OF A BROWN PAPER BAG. Do you know how much a clasp folder costs? Thirty cents. To save thirty cents, Phyllis was going to force me to go to school with folders MADE OUT OF PAPER BAGS. She might as well have dressed me in burlap and smeared chicken blood on my face.

I don't remember how I responded to this; I think I was speechless. Mom was extremely proud of her paper bag pockets and showed them to Dad as soon as he got home from work. And then, thank God, my dad took a stand against Phyllis' thriftiness, and he took me to the store and not only bought me new folders but also Lisa Frank stickers with which to decorate them. I still had to contend with the hairstyle and the clothes and the excess adipose layer, but I did not have to go to school with supplies made out of garbage.

Mom still insists that those folders would have worked just fine. And they would have if I was going to school in the Third World.

I wonder what she was planning to do with the thirty cents? Probably buy more Cool Whip.