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What About
Me?
by Katrina Brenner,
13
sweetyverdel@hotmail.com
In 1989, boom, it was time. You
came out, almost in the elevator... After the
delivery you almost made history, one of the first
baby boys to come out instantly. In a wheelchair
Mom was pushed, and the doctor slapped your tush,
to see if you were breathing, to see if you were
breathing. You came home the next day, everyone
said, "Yay, he is as cute as can be!!!!"
Hey, what about
me?
In 1990, you were One, and hey,
little brother, I'm glad it was done. You couldn't
do anything, walk, eat, or talk, but Trina could
jump, skip, run or play with chalk. I'm glad you
came out when you did, I'm big, you're small. I'm
the best four year old of all, but..."Oh look Dee,
he's at it again, he's made another scientific
discovery, oh look Dee..."
Hey, what about
me?
In 1991, You were Two, oh God,
the terrible two's. You screamed and pooped,
regergitated and stooped to the low, low cabinets
of Grandma's house, you played with pots and pans,
and every other household device. You were a cranky
pain, a little devil, the worst, but... "Oh, would
you look at my boy, cute as can be," Dad would say
as he bounced you on his knee.
Hey, what about
me?
1n 1992, once again, there is
you. You are Three, but you still can't do things
too easily. If you pee'd, you missed. You went to
go kiss the dog; that was a risk. But still
everyone loved the baby boy. You made them laugh,
you made them cry! Oye! If it were my say, I'd send
you away. Why can't 6-year olds have something to
say?
Hey, what about
me?
In 1993, You are Four and
pre-school has begun. Good-bye to sun, hello to
snow. Instead of KC's Sunshine Band, we got Barry
Manilow. Kate and Trisha they are just a peach,
even though they played and played!!! Did they ever
really teach??? Now you look back, they have a new
slide. You know what I got? A push on a
swing.
Hey, what about
me?
In 1994, you were Five. You are
very alert, you are very alive. You like to touch
everything in the house, at least you are over the
stage where everything goes in your mouth! We got
Gina, The Wonder Dog. She smells worse than Willie
and her frog. And now pre-school is at it
again!
Hey, what about
me?
In 1995, You're Six, Oh,
Bradstreet gives you your fix. Numbers, colors,
alphabet, can you spell? Y-o-u A-r-e A Pest!!! Mrs.
Miller is such a doll, her voice, a little scragly,
but that's all. You impress everyone by writing
your name. So, how is it bad when I write on
you?
Hey, what about
me?
In 1996, you are Seven, but I'm
still the oldest. At double didgit 11. You go off
to first grade and your first day is Great. You
learn stuff right away. Like how to sweep the
carpet, and get candy, Oye-Vey!!! Your teacher, is
she cool, around the room, does she prance. No
wonder, she was named after a dance!!! And everyone
loves her with glee.
Hey, what about me?
In 1997, Eight you have become.
You're in second grade, out of the house, you have
been, given the boot, to Mrs. Costello. Oh Boy. Ha!
That's a hoot. Don't make me gag. I'm in seventh
grade. I got the meanist teachers in the whole
U.S.A. Except Mr. Perry, he's okay. But, hey, you
have Costello, She's A-okay. Hey, hello, do you
remember me? Your daughter, when do I get a
say?
Hey what about me?
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