Saturday, November 15, 2008

Blood Sisters

It is funny how I can't remember everyday things (doctor appointments, dropping off library books on time, etc.) but I can vividly remember names from my childhood. I wish you could say to your brain, "Thanks for holding on to that for me, but I have absolutely no need for it now, so you can remove it and make room for something important." If only. And thus, I can remember two childhood friends: Nicole Savage and Dion Miller.
We were very close in elementary school. I think it was probably fourth grade or so, and we finally decided that our friendship had reached a barrier. We couldn't get any closer...or could we??
I really can't tell you who's brilliant idea it was to become blood sisters, but apparently we all thought it was necessary. I am sure that I had something to do with it, because I remember doling out assignments.
"Dion, you bring bandaids for afterward. Nicole, you bring something to stop the bleeding, and I will supply something to make us bleed." Now, what would you bring to make three little girls bleed on the playground. A pin? A needle? Well, I went for the most dramatic thing I could think of—a butcher knife. I kid you not, people. I knew my mom didn't use it very often, so I thought I could sneak it out for a day to do the deed. I don't think I ever visualized up to the point where I used the knife. My sister said we would have ended up as "stump" sisters; not "blood" sisters.



I remember putting the knife in my backpack and that funny gnawing feeling in my stomach when you know you are doing something stupid and you could get caught at any second. I don't even remember how I got it out of my bag, but I do remember taking it onto the playground tucked under my shirt (I'm sorry, mothers out there, I am sure this is not making you feel any better about your kids' safety at school). Unfortunately, an annoying boy named Lauren (who had a habit of following me and pulling my hair) saw the knife and tried to get his hands on it.
It wasn't much of a struggle, because I didn't want to get hurt. He took my knife and threw it under one of the portables. Hmmm....well that ended the blood sisters, but more importantly, I was now worried that my mom was going to notice that the knife was gone. I couldn't exactly go to my teacher and say, "Um, some stupid boy threw my butcher knife under the building, but I need to get it back before my mom notices it's missing, so could you help me out?" I can just see how that conversation would go. So I did what every smart child would do: nothing.
Then one fateful day, I was called to the principal's office. I knew right away that I was found out. Apparently the janitor cleans under the portables every so often (darn it) and he must have been mighty surprised at his find this time around. And then someone must have told on me. The principal was very kind and considering that I had no previous history, I was let off with an easy sentence. I think my mother was informed (duh), but I don't remember talking to her about it. I must have learned my lesson, because I have never taken another knife to school, especially not a butcher knife.
But now you know my sordid past. I have been to the principal's office; but, I have never become a blood sister. How about you? (Were you ever sent to the principal? I'm guessing most of you avoided the whole blood ordeal).

8 comments:

  1. Wow. Ok, so we all have dark sides. Occasionally I try to think of what I would do if I were living my dark-side parallel. In my morbid daydreams, I always end up having trouble hiding the murder weapon. Apparently I married the right woman. She has experience in the whole "hiding dangerous objects stealth and concealment" craft.

    Murderously interesting.

    "Um, honey, have you seen the fillet knife?"

    Maybe I'll just check under the portable...

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  2. I've never got in trouble. I but I do believe I am blood sister with every girl within 10 blocks of my childhood home. We did it a lot. A safety pin works great by the way, never thought to use to use butcher knife. I hope June doesn't get the same ideas her mother does...jk.

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  3. my senior year of high school i ended up with 7 detentions for skipping school and getting caught. i'd never so much as been close to getting in trouble any other time.

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  4. I did the blood sister thing too! Why do we all think that's such a good idea?

    I spent some fair time in the principal's office. I'm just a little spirited!

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  5. I can faintly recall discussions of "blood sisters" but I don't think it ever happened. I grew up in the "hood" of southern California: San Bernardino. Though I was by no means a perfect child, I wasn't in gangs, taking drugs and years older than my grade so my elementary school admin tended to think I was doing okay. In fact, my 6th grade teacher called my mom in to school because she wanted to tell her she didn't think I was hanging out with the right crowd. Ummm...there wasn't any other crowd to hang out with at school.
    Anyways, highschool was a little different, sluffing was made a true art. My friends and I took on the administration for their lame school attendance policy for our senior project and I think that was frowned upon.

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  6. Wow, what a great story to pass down! You're just fortunate is was back in the old days. Now days, the school would be in lock down, the FBI would come in and sweep the area as national news helicopters hovered, you would be hauled away in handcuffs and weapons checks would begin at your school!

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  7. Interesting how values change. When I was in school, people got sent to the principal's office for chewing gum in class. Try that today and see how far you'd get! Back in my mother's day (the 1930's), she got sent to the principal for giggling in class! I kid you not. I know my brother got in trouble for pulling the fire alarm at his elementary school. In high school I skipped a lot of school and wrote notes 'from my mother' to excuse the absences - but I eventually got caught. Is there anybody who HASN'T gotten in trouble sooner or later?

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  8. Ha ha ha! Funny. I love your stories.

    I did go to the principal's office once in 5th grade (it was my rebellious year, where I didn't have the greatest friends and had a boyfriend... although, I don't think I ever talked to him). At recess I was a part of some mean making fun that my friends did (I don't remember saying any of the mean things, but I was still there an didn't stop them). Anyway. So yes, the worst part about going to the principal's office for me was that he was not only my principal but also my Sunday School teacher. The Sunday after my trip to his office was probably the worst in my entire life. And to make things even worse, my mom taught at the same school (and were in the same ward). So she and the principal were friends.

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