Bored Mind

Fellings about school and odd brother

I stared down at my paper seeing the red C+ stare back at me. You probably know how it feels when you work so hard on a pointless essay and then in the end you get this. I don't think teachers know how much pain, and suffer they are causing for us little innocent students, they think that we have nothing better to do then to listen to them six hours strait.

And then they dare give us homework?

And to tell you the truth I don’t really care about essay's because I have much better, more purposeful things to do with my time.

My brother Mathew who is the complete opposite of me (and happens to be my twin as well) thinks that education is like the all mighty thing that everyone should think about until the last day of collage. And then “of course” to pass that onto our children.

If I would ever do that, I would consider myself a terrible mother.

Walking home that same day, I remember something about Mathew that made me wonder if one of us was adopted.

When we were in 7th grade our teacher said we should make a short movie, about twenty minutes long about something that we were interested in. I did it on basketball; my brother on the other hand did it on Leonardo DaVinci. Now the remarkable part about it was that when we each showed the movie in front of the entire class, everyone stayed awake to watch this “entertaining movie”. In fact after the movie they asked him questions about the movie.

Unstill this day I never understood why. Maybe they were just making pure fun of him, or maybe he hypnotized him. It could be one or the other…

Three years later, today I was walking home from my bus stop with the paper of a C+ cutting into the white part of the paper. And it’s not that I’m stupid, but I guess it wasn’t good enough for the teacher Mrs. Ham.

Her name is not really Mrs. Ham. Our truly geniuses class decided that since she was quite large and rather very round, and to add to the fact that her name was Mrs. Hamilton appealed to us very much.

Every afternoon after teaching our class she would take out of her bright yellow bag a sandwich with ham, lettuce, pickles, and mustered. Every day for the past four year she had the same sandwich and that would drive us nuts.

I remember that we used to ask her if she ever got sick of the ham sandwiches. We imagined that she had a basement full of ready made ham sandwiches for the rest of her life. It was in our opinion and very unhealthy obsession.

I walked into the house, dropped my bag on the couch and walked automatically into the kitchen.

“Hey mom, I got a C+.” My Mom is not that bad when it comes to grades, but wait until my Dad hears about this.

I’ll survive...I always do.