By now, you should know I love to read. I bet you also understand reading was the second activity I enjoyed after playing outside. One of my favorite places to go was a bookstore that had a hide-away nook for children inside a wooden tree trunk. It was like a fairy land. I adored the area.
And it got me to thinking.....
If I ended up not playing second base for the Astros, opening a bookstore seemed like a perfect alternative. I mean, really, being around books all day? Sublime.
However, leave it to school to completely and totally ruin my love. They took glorious sentences, and beautiful words like "wither" and "harmony" and "sun-catcher" and turned them into multiple choice questions. It was excruciating. Agonizing.
I couldn't just read the text? I had to think about it? I couldn't just bask in the glorious images and feelings the author created?
Huh. Well, I wasn't gonna do it. Nope. Not me.
I pretended to work. I pretended to read the questions and circle my answers. And when I was done, I promptly followed directions and brought my paper to my teacher while she sat at her desk so she could grade it. Right then.
Luckily, as I patiently waited my turn, I discovered where her answer key was. A little slip of paper sat on her desk in front of her with the answers written on it. So I returned to my seat, fixed what was wrong, and took my work back to her. She never guessed I'd figured it out.
Do I feel bad about cheating? Um...yes. But I'm not completely sorry and for this reason:
I found it odd that I had to interpret what I read the same way everyone else did. What good does that do anyone if we're all thinking the same way?