We used to have a special time set aside for art class when I was in the first grade. I hated it.
I hated it for a couple of reasons. First of all, I was terrible at it. I couldn’t draw for the life of me. We started out by learning “contour drawing” and our first image was a deer. Everything was too fast. All of the lines and circles . . . I could never get them just right. And I never raised my hand either because it seemed like all of the other kids in the class knew exactly what they were doing and were clearly enjoying themselves. Second of all, I didn’t like the teacher very much. Actually, that’s an understatement. She was a bitch. I’m convinced that anything she ever tried to teach me went in one ear and out the other. It explains why I have a hard time adding anything with double digits.