April 05 2010
The Easter Egg Devastation
So anyway, every year Easter brings up one memory for me that always stings a little. And I figure I’d tell the story– so here I am doing that.
Back in my kindergarten days around Easter time, I was in a class of like 25 kids. We were all hanging out busy playing with blocks or thinking of gum or whatever we did. But on that day, we were all super psyched because we knew at the end of class– if we were ‘good’– we’d all get an easter egg! Rumor was they had our names on em and everything! I think they were painted up by some teachers assistant or whatever..
Finally at the end of class, the teacher had everyone sit down like dogs and pant for our eggs. A table was set up for them! And there they were! The rumors were true! Different colors! Different styles! And unbelievably one of them up there had MY name on it! Treasure!
The teacher called up the first group. “If your first name is A through F… Come get your egg!” And the A-F kids all gathered around the table and snatched up their eggs. (I cursed my last place T name). Then G through L. The G-L’s all headed to the table. They all returned with coolio name-brand eggs. They showed them off to us still waiting. I couldn’t wait to see my egg…
“M through P come get your egg!” I was practically whizzing in my pants in eggtiscipation! (sorry) And then finally R through Z come get your egg! Four or five of us rushed to the table for our eggs. Robert got his. Sharon took hers. Foreign exchange Zeron got his. And I excitedly searched the table for my ‘Todd’ egg when it dawned on me that I was standing all alone. Just me. With only one blue egg left on the table. And that blue egg had the name ‘Ted’.
I think I went full blast tears on this one. Bawling tears. The teacher came over and apologized and quickly corrected the mistake with a sharpee or some shit. It looked worse. My egg was all sorts of f-ked up! I headed back to the group with my crossed out scribbled on defect egg. Utterly humiliated and crying.
Fortunately, in kindergarten kids aren’t smart enough to know it was a prime opportunity to start calling me Ted from there on out. It may have stuck…
ok bye!
tOdd
23
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Hey, Ted. Just wanted to take this opportunity to write in and say I enjoy your site. I send OddTed links all the time to my friends.
Somebody buy oddted.com!
Bond. Ted Bond.
That sucks. I’d have been all “WTF?!?!?!? IS GOING ON WITH MY F’ING EGG?!?!?!?”
aww. i totally feel ya. i was always the ‘odd kid out’ in planned school activities too – like the teacher would always for some reason forget to assign me a group and have to shove me into one last minute and the group would be the oversized freak group because of me, or they’d get my name wrong… oh, grade school. the emotional damage you have caused.
Double sucky for being Jewish at Easter- didn’t they have dreidels and Passover stuff too?!?!?!? WTF!?!?!?
Aw. Oddtedd. I can’t believe that happened to you. Well, I’ll never mess up your name, Tadd. 🙂 I can remember grade one stuffs too. Although if you ask me about last week, I couldn’t really tell you! Ha! Probably the same as the week before…I think.
wow, that is devastating. Poor little kid. Glad you got over it (sort of).
That’s a good story Ted, keep up the good work.
This was an attempt to gain sympathy after the April Fool’s disaster. It failed. Failed! you failed, Ted!
I have a positive story that happened to me during Easter time. I was in Grade 8, and our class had to create Easter aspired stories for the kindergarten class at school. My story was about the Mario brothers & gang visiting Mushroom Kingdom to help the Easter Bunny. Bowser kidnapped the Bunny and the Mario brothers had to find him.
Yep, nothin’ says Easter like the Mario Brothers and “magic mushrooms”.
I’ve had some of those ‘shrooms. They’re called peyote. You puke your guts out and then trip for days.
Mushrooms are Fungi, grow from spores, contains psilocybin.
Cactus grow from seeds, contain mescaline. Both can make you puke, both get you high! Cactus is better, Silly Wabbit!
Just think, if you’d only embraced the Oracle of Easter, you could’ve grown up to run a comic-illustrated educational website called EdTed. It could’ve change the future of America.
But no. You had to go and be a baby about it.
My Easter story is a bit different:
We lived in Metairie, a suburb of New Orleans, but my moms family had a farm outside of Lafayette. So every year, we had two Christmas celebrations, two Easters and so on…
One year (I was about 5) we get to the farm for Easter and instead of baskets of candy and dyed eggs there was nothing. Nothing, no sign of Easter at all. Even my mom and dad looked confused…till my uncle walked out (with a big grin on his face) holding a dead rabbit by the ears and saying “look what I shot out in the field this morning!” My siblings and I were *shattered*. Tears, sobbing..it was awful. Mom took control by grabbing my uncle by the ear and pulling him and the unfortunate rabbit out of the room. She got out the hidden but filled baskets and passed them out.
It did not take long for us to get over it, and my uncle thought it was hilarious to remind us of that story after we got older. Mom never did think it was funny…
reminds me of the time i had acid thrown in my face.
“The Tedster” has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?
too bad TED!!
Sucks almost as bad as being a West Virginia coal miner.
I just took a dump so big, I’m going to have to get it a social security number!
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