Boys Will Be Boys

100 Things About Me #137
Reentering the Boys Room at Fernbank School after 42 years was exhilarating. Forty-two years is a long time to go between pees.

The headaches stopped and my nervous leg twitch may wind down by autumn.

Look at those tiny urinals for the youngest lads. Cute, huh? I remember that spot in first grade, rolling around, bumping into the wall and porcelains. Darn training wheels.

Oh, because you wonder, during the recent visit, I did check the stalls for messages. I had none. It felt like Valentine's Day again.

Justin, Class of '86, you're to "have a gnarly summer."

And "For a good time, watch 'ALF' on NBC."

I don't recall anything out of the ordinary ever happening in the Boys Room, except a seventh grade teacher questioned my zipper etiquette while we were standing elbow-to-elbow, urinal-to-urinal. I had unbuttoned and lowered my husky Haggar slacks, rather than access via the fly. He seemed puzzled by my method, but it worked for me. And isn't that the best society can hope for in a young person?

Teach and I had a very proper, instructive conversation and, frankly, it was a welcomed change from the usual straightforward "nice cinderblocks we're having."

Today, he would have been incarcerated -- and I'd be dropping trou' "On the Record With Greta Van Susteren."

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This Entry Continued From: "100 Things About Me #131," part of the "Back to School" sequence.
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