Mrs. H, third grade teacher.

Names have been withheld to protect me from getting in huge trouble, since I just found out that this teacher still asks about me from time to time. 

Large gray haired woman.  Large brightly colored Hawaiian moo moo’s.  Large amounts of hair unshaven under arms. 

I was scared out of my little 3rd grade mind when I read my name under hers on the classroom list.  I did NOT want to be in her class.  She was scary and big and loud and mean. 

She sat on Eddie that first week.  I remember seeing his scrawny little twig like arms and legs sticking out from behind her body on that chair in the front of the room.  I thought Eddie was going to die that day.  He shaped up real quick. We came in another day and wondered at the large glass of water on the desk of a student in the front row.  Once she popped out her false teeth and dropped them in, the wondering ceased.   We learned to use the restroom before class or risk not being able to go, and peeing in our chair like Ryan. 

It didn’t take long to win her over though.   I was a whiz at math, and Mrs. H liked do-gooders. She also liked a healthy competition.  I soon became the one to beat in timed times tables.  She would bring anyone who wished to challenge me and set us in the front of the class with her brightly colored paper she found at a recycler, set the timer and GO!   My fingers flew.  I was shy, but math I knew.  I loved her that day and from that day forward.  I was her friend whether I won (which I usually did)  or lost.  And I do believe she sparked the beginning of my love for competition. 

I went back to visit every so often for a few years, and she never lost her quirkiness.  Thank you Mrs. H for the memories and now that I am an adult, the laughter.