Worst Day of School

I spent a great majority of my school years in the Tennessee school system. No, it wasn’t one room, no it wasn’t on a tobacco farm, yes there was a pair of cousins that were caught kissing in the bathroom. For reals, it happened.

I’ll have you know TN schools are 21st century.

Due to a recent virus outbreak at my job, this post was prompted by conversation about it. What was going around? That I do not know, it could have been introduced by anyone or anything. It’s a proven fact according to TLC’s show Hoarders: Buried Alive that anyone can live in deplorable conditions and not even the closest of friends know. Anyone, that lady with the hand sanitzer on her desk, a cover up. She has jars of urine and feces decorating her house because her bathroom is full of magazines, because that’s where they should go, duh. I will accept this as long as it’s not Woman’s Day, which we all know, it is.

 Me wuv cupcakes!

Which brings me back to 2nd grade. My teacher, Mrs. White, bless her kind heart wherever she may be.

I must have gotten a stomach virus, possibly from contaminated Kid’s Cuisine, who knows. I made it half way through the school day when I began throwing up, and didn’t stop. I became a Garbage Pail Kid. The school tried to call my mom, who wasn’t home. No cell phones…so they tried the emergency contact list, whoever the hell that was. I was stuck at school, vomiting relentlessly. Because I’ll assume before caller I.D. people just didn’t answer the freaking phone.

Sorry I missed the call hon, I made this cool hat with our phone.

During a game of “heads up seven up” which is a “quiet game” and should be called “heads up shut the fuck up”, I increased my gross sick kid factor to the tenth power. It was like this:

My teacher grabbed a trash can and put it beneath me but a little too late because it was all over the floor. When I looked up this kid named Matthew was pulling the scotch tape off her desk and taping his nose going, “Oh God! It stinks!” Which made me laugh and then puke more. Sensing the possibility of me grossing out other eight year old kids, igniting a puke chain reaction, she ushered me to the bathroom.

Right now, as and adult, I know what this lady was thinking, “Where the fuck is your mother kid? So help me, if I get sick, I am taking a week off. If she gets anything on my denim jumper with apples on it, I’m gonna be sick.” Well, she helped me wash up and splashed cold water on my face, like a saint that she is.

But this is my FAVORITE denim jumper.

I get back to see the janitor with the dust cleaning up my mess. I know what he was thinking too, “All this from one fucking kid? Did she have a massive head trauma? Six Flags doesn’t clean this much puke up!”

Well that Matthew kid had used the entire roll of tape on his face which became a mask or sorts. Only, he couldn’t get it off. My teacher then had to pull this hastily devised respirator off while he screamed, “It’s pulling my face!” I laughed and of course puked more, this time in the trash can. I’m sure she went home and drank a bottle of whine before zoning out to  Family Matters.

He’ll never give up on Laura even when she files a restraining order.

Well, the fiasco wasn’t over, I had to ride the bus home. I had not quite emptied my gastric contents however, ohhh ho ho no, not quite. I couldn’t get close enough to the front of the bus and I guess being like eight, I didn’t think to tell the bus driver, Ms. Ruby, she had those super high bangs. I know she rocked out to Poison all day, every day. Well, I almost made it home but not quite. I ran to the front of the bus but threw up on a kid right before the trash can. He was this red-headed little asshole so I feel karma was at work this day.

If he had this on it would be huge SPLAT yes!

He screams and Ms. Ruby slams on the breaks. I almost go flying into the windshield. At this moment, I would have welcomed the embrace of dead relatives as they guide me to a bright light. Heaven is very well lit, you never strain your eyes reading there.

“This escalator takes you to Dillards”

Well, I throw up at the bus stop too and the children disperse but not before screaming “Ewww! Don’t touch her!” Now I know how a leper felt in the days of yore. It was rather isolating. I make it home and my dad is in his usual television after work attire, a white t-shirt and shorts, with slippers. He has no idea I’m sick but he suggests I lay on the couch and watch Cheers, which I think made me sicker.

Everything this guy says still makes me nauseous

My mom finally came home and rendered aide. She got the ginger ale out and a cold rag for my forehead. I swear this magic combination is sheer alchemy only mother’s know, because I was fine soon after. I still don’t know where she was, M.I.A. during that fateful phone call, but I’m going to assume drugs. Yep, drugs. She hid it well, I always assumed the track marks were because she said she had a “diabetes habit”. I hope you all know I jest.

Well, drugs or Thigh Master 

I didn’t go to school the next day, much to Mrs. White’s relief I’m sure. I got to play Barbies and listen to my Paula Abdul tape all day, weak, but much better. I got back to school and I was made fun of for about a week straight. That red-headed fuck on the bus never spoke to me, nor made eye contact. I mean, I did  throw up on his Starter jacket. Sorry asshole, I’ll have you know my puke looked better than your freckled face! I hope you also know I jest. He was an asshole though. Worst school day ever.

Hey Ipecac! Toss your cookies lately?! Ha ha, we’re funny, let’s go play with slap bracelets.


15 responses to “Worst Day of School

  1. Wow… what a horrible experience. And from all your descriptions, you must have made Linda Blair in her prime projectile vomiting days look like a wimpy amateur! She had nothing on you that day, because seems like you got something on everyone!

    Two very quick vomit stories of my own:

    1) I was 10 years old and staying for a week in the summer, with my friend’s family, in a cabin in coastal Maine. We had steamed clams for dinner and although I loved eating them, after we went to bed, it was no fun when I felt like those steamed clams were coming back up.

    But I had a real problem, which was that my friend and I were sleeping up in a loft near the roof of the cabin, and the only way down to where the bathroom was on the floor before, was via a ladder, and I knew I’d never get down that ladder in time, before those clams were coming up and out! I yelled for help to my friend’s mother, who instantaneously understood my problem, and instantly responded by throwing a large pot 10 feet up towards me while I was still up in the loft.

    Mom’s throw was right on target and so accurate that it would have made both Peyton Manning and Tom Brady jealous! I caught the pot and 5 seconds later the pot caught my entire plate worth of spewed up steamed clams!

    A real example of how Moms can do truly amazing things when the game is on the line, with only 6 seconds left on the clock!

    Mom throws! And it’s caught in the end zone for a TOUCHDOWN! Aarrruuhhgg-blopp-splop-splop-blech!!!

    Maybe I’ll save the second story for another time – it’s not nearly as good. LOL 😀

  2. I hope whenever anyone bothered you for the rest of the year, you just looked at them, then screwed up your face and started making heaving noises.

    • I know people who can puke on demand. I am not one of them, but I can see where that might be a sort of talent. Want to go home and spend the afternoon watching TruTV? Just visit Cousin Ralph in your trash can on demand, and your boss will be more than happy to tell you to scoot on out.

      But I have to be near death before I can puke- I think I’ve been able to about five times in my entire life that I can remember, so that won’t work for me.

  3. sheafferhistorian

    Stomach bugs are the worst! They spread like wild fires and the barfing is such a treat. I’ve made it my life’s mission to track down patient zero when there are outbreaks in the office…..so far, I’m 2/2

    • Lysol is your friend. Hose down the bathroom before you go and spray your cubby/work area too. The hand sanitizer is also your friend. Keep it handy and use it often. We can’t prevent all illnesses but we can strive to keep our own little spheres relatively germ-free.

      Now if we could convince the contagious to stay the f home….

  4. What can I say? This was barftastic!

  5. Hey! I’ve nominated you for a Lovely Blog award, clearly means that I love your blog! Do visit here http://lifeofmee.wordpress.com/2012/07/31/lovely-blog-award/ to check it out

  6. Good lord. That is one serious day of sickness. Kind of funny though. I feel like I might begin a puking session at work one of these days. Paid Time Off anyone?

    • That is a capital way to get sent home. Explosive diarrhea (especially if you have the brown stained pants to prove it) will also convince 99% of bosses to let you have the rest of the day off.

  7. Eww, Vo-Ban! Those sort of minty smelling crunchy pink sprinkles the janitor pours on the puke. We had a kid who puked up his lunch every day and it was the same deal. The janitor had to come out with the Vo-Ban and the broom and the big dust pan and clean up ‘ol puky’s used chocolate milk. Oddly enough, for all my predisposition to illness I rarely get stomach viruses and I can count the times I’ve been able to actually puke on one hand (though I’ve wished I could and couldn’t numerous times.)

    It’s the respiratory shit that kills me. I get horrendous sinus infections, bronchitis, pneumonia, and those sort of things with a vengeance every time I get as much as a head cold. Right now I’m dealing with the office Typhoid Mary who’s been sitting next to me for a week and a half snotting and coughing up a lung on me every other minute (NO “cold” hygiene precautions whatsover- just coughs and snots everywhere without a care, just like a toddler) yet wonders why I’m wearing a face mask and spraying my cubby down with Lysol constantly. Because I Don’t Want The Shit You Have!!!

    I don’t want the stomach crud either but the respiratory funk is a lot more dangerous for me.

  8. You are barftastic! LOVE this story. Only in kids stories does a boy tape his face and the poor put upon teacher has to rip it off. hahahaha

    Thanks, loved this!

  9. I’m sorry… I had to pause. Your second grade teacher? Mrs. White… My 2nd grade teacher was Mrs. White too. I know, It’s a common last name but… Could you describe her to me? She was my favorite teacher next to my freshman year reading teacher, Ms. T.

    I’ll have to read the rest but first: Congrats. http://93cedelle.wordpress.com/2012/08/01/one-lovely-blog-award/


  10. Sheena, it scares me how eerily similar this sounds to MY most nightmarish 2nd grade pukefest. Well, my 2nd grade teacher was a lesbian so instead of a denim jumper she was steadily sporting the denim button-up shirt, but other than that it is pretty damn near identical…my mom wasn’t home either (didn’t that bitch know she was supposed to stay home all day in case i got a raging stomach virus?) but I WAS able to spare myself a bus ride when one of the office workers said she would drive me home if I was absolutely certain that I could give her proper directions to my house (how many laws would that be breaking these days?). To this day i wonder what this good Samaritan would have done had my mom not (FINALLY) arrived home shortly before we pulled up…

    Oh, and I got ya one better…apparently I had picked up the violent vomiting + loose bowels virus, cause the last time i threw up in the classroom I also shit myself for good measure. Yeah…it was fun livin that one down.

    Ironically enough, here i am 23 years later, lying in bed absolutely miserable from puking up my guts all day. On the bright side though I have not shit on myself thus far.

  11. I have never thrown up at school. But, poor kid. There’s a girl named Ella. She got out of line. I heard my teacher say, “Ella, are you ok?” I turned my head to look. Ella puked white vomit. When she came inside, she was crying. Then my friend said, “Bad news. Ella is in the hospital. She pukes 10 times a day.” I felt bad for her.

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