We had this psychopath bus driver who must’ve enjoyed the sound of children fighting and crying rather than laughing and singing and having fun. The rule was you had to sit with your sibling rather than your friends.
I had this major crush on my co-bus patroller and he sat with his sister and I with my brother. One day out of the blue my brother says “Chinese, Japanese, dirty knees, look at these!” And lifts my shirt and shows the love of my life my little pointy bee sting new boobs.
So, naturally, I punched him in the nose and made him bleed.
The lessons I learned that day were:
Boys in grade seven get a bad rep because this boy kindly lied and told me he wasn’t even looking (even though I knew he was – and did).
Little brothers are the worst.
Even though he did a horrible, epic-ly embarrassing thing I still felt terrible that I made him bleed.
That became the bench mark for embarrassing things so from then on all embarrassing things are measured based on surviving that event and none have yet to top it so I no longer get embarrassed easily.