Kindergarten, the days of spelling your words wrong, having bad handwriting, and the red and blue mats that we took naps on after lunch. I was the cute little kid with the long curly blond hair and the bright blue eyes. The one who loved to laugh and had so much joy. On a rainy afternoon after lunch the teacher put us down for our naps or to color in our packet. I decided to color that day. As I was laying on my mat in the dark room the only sound I could hear  was the scribbles of markers or crayons and the loud breathing noises from the sleeping children nearby. I was laying in the corner by the short metal bookshelves and the play kitchen that I was always so desperate to play at during play time. I looked in front of me and saw another kid with his sleeping mat under the art easel playing with a pair of scissors. He was cutting up his paper into tiny little shreds that made it look like it was snowing on his mat. I was bored of coloring and needed something else to do so I opened my pink pencil pouch and pulled out my scissors.

I began to

cut,

cut,

Snip,

Until the tiny shreds of paper had a created a barrier over the ground. I swept them in a tiny pile with my hands and pushed them aside. As I pushed the piece of paper that I had left aside a tiny strand of hair skinned my face. This little piece of hair had been bothering me for days. I grabbed my scissors and clutched the strand of hair in my hand, I opened the scissors and

SNIP…

The hair fell over top of my hand. It was a small piece and you could not even see it was gone from my head. As thoughts ran through my head of what I was supposed to do with the hair I had just taken from my head the teacher was getting up from her chair to turn on the light and begin to wake the sleeping students. The clicking of her heels made memore nervous with every step she took. I panicked and shoved the hair under the rug, put my scissors back into my pencil pouch and rose from my mat. I began to fold it up so I could put it back into my locker. I placed my pencil pouch on the shelf in my locker. I sat in my chair and she began teaching math. The day continued and no one noticed the hair under the carpet. When I looked into the mirror in the bathroom you could not even see that the hair was missing.

The next day I checked under the rug and the hair was gone. The janitor must have swept it up. No one found out about me cutting my hair until I was in first grade when I finally told my parents. They were upset with me but did not get me in trouble because it was so long after it happened. I learned my lesson that day in kindergarten...don’t play with scissors.