The Day I Dropped Out of School

I’m sure Mrs. Swayze was an excellent teacher. I’m sure she loved her students and wanted the best for them. That description probably would be accurate from an adult’s point of view, but I was only 7.
Second grade was very difficult for me. I was apparently very shy, or so I’ve been told numerous times by my older sisters. I loved the play store we had in the back of the room, where we could take turns being the storekeeper and making the change for the "customers". I loved being a customer and trying to count out my money so that it would cover the cost without getting change.
The school was built like a fort. A huge grassy square was in the middle, with verandas and sidewalks around, from which each class room could be accessed. We had to go outside and walk around to get to other rooms, including the bathrooms. Hence, my problem. The teacher apparently was rather reluctant to let me go every time I asked to go. I don’t know why! One day I wet my pants because she wouldn’t excuse me. I had enough sense to leave my coat on at recess and lean against the building because I knew if I played jacks, I would leave a wet spot.
Because she knew what happened that day, she let me be excused the next time I asked. I went to the bathroom and sat there and cried for a long time. She finally came and checked on me. She urged me to come back to the classroom. I said I would, but I ran down that long hall, out the front door, and headed for home. I lived about 4 or 5 blocks from the school, and had to cross a major highway. On top of that, during my run, a bulldog decided to join me. I thought he was chasing me but, on retrospect, he may have just been running with me. I was screaming as I grabbed our back gate and almost pulled it off the hinges. My Mom let me stay home for a little while so I thought I was okay.

I saw her talking on the telephone but I thought she was excusing me from school. Then she betrayed me! She put me in the car and drove me back to the school. Mrs. Swayze met us at the front door and together they pulled me up the stairs. I made it as difficult as possible by bracing my feet on each and every one of the 10 or so steps. I honestly don’t remember any further problems with that teacher. I wonder if she had any further problems with me?