So, as I previously noted, I am a vegetarian. No one else in my family is a vegetarian; actually we’re Italian, so they’re pretty ashamed of my unwillingness to eat meat. When I said I wanted to stop eating meat in the second grade, my mom thought it was a phase and went with it. But it wasn’t. I think second grade is about the time when you really start making the connection between animals and meat.
I realized that when I was eating spaghetti and meatballs:
|It's spaghetti and meatballs. Shut up.|
or a hamburger:
I was actually eating Bessie the Cow. :(
My little second grade self was deeply disturbed to learn where grandma’s meatballs really came from.
Also, we were learning a lot about American Indians and for some reason, the idea of whale-hunting really upset me.
In-a-not-totally-unrelated-way, second grade was also the year that I found out I was a wussie. I don’t actually mind the sight of blood, but talking about your heart and blood and circulatory systems and pulses (ugh, pulses!) really freaks me out. I know I know, “but a pulse is a GOOD thing,” and I agree, but if you try to touch my pulse, I will poke your eye out (oh, maybe boyfriend isn’t totally an innocent victim, eh??).
Anyhoo, I remember a distinct episode in second grade when I came to realize this about myself. The teacher was telling us about blood and pulses and other gross stuff, and we were practicing feeling our pulses, then jogging in place and feeling them again. I was completely disgusted and blatantly pressing my fingers on my jaw in an attempt to make sure I didn’t accidentally feel my neck pulse, but I was still getting totally woozy.
I guess I was looking a little pale, because the teacher was all:
But what I saw was:
I had never been lightheaded before, so of course I thought I was going blind or dying or something equally traumatic. I went up to the teacher and told her there were spots in my eyes and I couldn’t see, so she made me put my head on my desk for the rest of the class. And that’s how I almost passed out in second grade.
I probably should have called this post “The Year I discovered I was a Wussie” because I clearly couldn’t handle anything icky. I’d like to pretend I outgrew it, but I’m still a vegetarian and I BARELY got through junior year health class (CPR. Pulse feeling and heart beating. Ick. ICK ICK.) BONUS embarrassing confession: Even writing about pulses is making me feel a little iffy. I was going to draw another picture to go with this, but really I just need to stop thinking about it. Shudder.