Crybaby

  Crybaby             I was a crybaby in first grade.   I watched my brothers go off to school since my earliest days but when it was my turn to put on the grey slacks, shiny black shoes and Navy blue Norwood Academy jacket I became anxious. Breakfast by then was a finely choreographed routine with a constant schedule, predictable foods, recurring conversations, and inside jokes.  To me the breakfast ceremonial was strange and so onto my anxiety was added an uncomfortable feeling of being out-of-place.  After breakfast we kissed Mom and went out the back door. Saying goodbye to Mom meant leaving a world of safety and security and entering a world of danger and insecurity and so onto to my anxiety and uncomfortable feeling of being out-of-place was added fear.  Mom said goodbye to Dad, Jimmy, Mike, Pat, and lastly to me.  She said goodbye to me last because I was the baby of the group. I knew it and everybody else knew it and so onto my anxiety and uncomfortable feeling of being out-of-