Memory Essay

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“I love you Davie, so please stop crying.” My first boyfriend cried uncontrollably as he sat in time-out in the corner of the playroom. All of the other kindergardeners joyfully hung up hand-made Christmas decorations with the teachers in the hallway. Davie was the troublemaker out of all the kindergardeners. He was constantly getting in trouble for one thing or another, and he had a dirty mouth that seemed to get washed out by one of the teachers every other week. I guess you could say I liked bad boys back in the day. “Davie, what’s wrong? Tell me why you’re in time-out.” Davie kept his face in his knees and said, “I hit Mary, so Ms. Karen said I can’t help hang up the Christmas decorations and my decorations won’t get put up either.” I patted Davie on the head. Even though I loved Davie, I didn’t like the fact that he hit Mary. Mary was my friend, and my mother always told me brother that hitting a girl was wrong. If it’s wrong for my brother, then it was wrong for Davie. Sure, Davie had gotten into fights with the other little boys, but he never hit a girl before. “But Davie, you hit a girl. You can’t hit girls. You have to be in time-out, it’s the rules!” Davie looked up from his knees and glared up at me. “I don’t care about the rules,” he said through angry tears, “F*** you and leave me alone.” My jaw dropped. Davie said that horrible, dirty, forbidden word that no kindergardener would ever dare speak. It was the word that was so horrible, we only referred to it as the “F” word and even that was hard to say. My own bottom lip began to tremble while Davie put his head back in his knees. He wasn’t crying anymore, and he was ignoring me. I was hurt and mad that my own boyfriend would dare say the “F” word in my presence. All of the children had finished hanging up their decorations and were starting to come back into the playroom. I walked into the

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