A Hero's Chariot
Daddy held my hand as we trudged out the school’s larger-than-life double doors. Words of assurance flowed gently with the comforting melody that can only come from a daddy’s voice. We approached his 1976 Dodge Aspen sitting solidly in the parking lot like a bronzed chariot preparing for sport. My warrior hero opened that chariot’s door and nestled me in its safety. I wanted to go home.
Earlier that day, I sat placidly creating some craft in Mrs. Butterbaum’s kindergarten class. I’m sure there was some well-intentioned lesson behind the craft—cutting straight lines, not eating glue—that sort of thing. All I knew was that I was a salacious little girl exploring creative expression.
It hit me right as I attempted to affix a googly-eye to a paper bag Rudolph. I did not know the human body produced such an array of colorful pyrotechnics. Hues of crimson with hints of orange and violet forced themselves upon my art project. Tears of desperation flowed from quickly dulling blue eyes. How much trouble was I going to be in?
Securing a smiley face sticker drifted from sight. My little heart sank into the inner depths of my stomach. Time blurred. The fleeting thought of that smiley face sticker dissipated. The next moment daddy’s hand and soothing words were there to guide me to my awaiting chariot. Everything was going to be fine.
Earlier that day, I sat placidly creating some craft in Mrs. Butterbaum’s kindergarten class. I’m sure there was some well-intentioned lesson behind the craft—cutting straight lines, not eating glue—that sort of thing. All I knew was that I was a salacious little girl exploring creative expression.
It hit me right as I attempted to affix a googly-eye to a paper bag Rudolph. I did not know the human body produced such an array of colorful pyrotechnics. Hues of crimson with hints of orange and violet forced themselves upon my art project. Tears of desperation flowed from quickly dulling blue eyes. How much trouble was I going to be in?
Securing a smiley face sticker drifted from sight. My little heart sank into the inner depths of my stomach. Time blurred. The fleeting thought of that smiley face sticker dissipated. The next moment daddy’s hand and soothing words were there to guide me to my awaiting chariot. Everything was going to be fine.