I believe it was when I was in the third grade that we put on a stage production of Woody Woodchuck, not only to get us to work together, but also for the parents. I peeped through the curtain before the show and could see my mother and my sister, Rosalie, in the front row. It really made me happy to see them there. Woody Woodchuck was a tale of a woodchuck....that's groundhog to Easterners and marmot to those in the central and northwestern United States.
Somehow, I had been chosen to play Woody and Dan, the biggest boy in the class, was the dog that was always chasing Woody, who would make it to his hole (through the curtain) on the left side of the stage. He would stick his head out of his burrow and taunt the dog, "Ha, Ha, you can't catch me." This happened a couple times and then, it was winter and the snow fairies came. Several girls from my class, dressed in fairy costumes and carrying little baskets of snow (small pieces of white paper), came out and danced around the stage throwing snow over the ground.
Of course, Woody had to come out to play in the snow and almost got caught by the dog. Fortunately for Woody, the dog slipped on the snow allowing Woody to, as usual, managed to get back to the safety of his burrow and throw his last taunt at the dog as the curtain came down. I totally enjoyed being the center of attention even though I was a bit shy normally.
I liked this better than playing the triangle or tambourine in the Rhythm Band back in the second grade.
Our third grade teacher was Mrs Lively, red haired and freckled. Her daughter, Laura, a pretty red head, was one of the students in the class. In later years, there was the comic strip, Dennis the Menace. whose friend, Margaret, reminded me of Laura....cute, haughty, intelligent and a pest.
Some of the seating in the classroom was regular school desks. At the front of the classroom were a couple tables that each had room for about eight children to do their work. One day, while I was seated at one of the tables, a fly was pestering me so, I folded a piece of paper and tried to dispatch the flying pest. I missed, but, the red haired pest, across the table from me, called to her mother, "Mommy, John is trying to fan me."
Mrs Lively came over, stood beside me and said, "So you want to fan my daughter. Then, go over, stand beside her and fan her."
Reluctantly and half-heartedly, I did as I was told, while Laura sat there, smugly, with a big grin, and the class had a good laugh. I felt even littler than I was. I never wanted to be near Laura again.
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