Author: Doodlebug, Doodlebug, Your House is on Fire

MITZI

MITZI

When I was in the fifth grade in 1948, I brought a pack of kits to school. You remember kits, they came five in a packet, with vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate flavors, and a pack in 1948 cost 1 cent. I gave one strawberry kit to Mitzi.

Mitzi was a cute little blond headed girl, slim with beautiful teeth, and pretty legs. Mitzi and I both sat on the front row, Mitzi, because she wanted to, and I because the teacher, Mrs. Godfrey, made me. In fact, Mrs. Godfrey didn’t like me. She kept me in after school almost every day of the fifth grade.

My father was the school principal, and I found out he had a rule requiring teachers to give at least one fifteen minute recess sometime during the school day. Mrs. Godfrey being very obese, we called it fat back then, would very often ‘forget’ recess. I loved recess, and if she forgot recess two days in a row, I would mention it to my father during dinner. The next morning, I would, from my front row seat, see my father come to Mrs. Godfrey’s door. They talked, I could only guess about what, but we would get our recess for a few days. Mrs. Godfrey, while I am sure my father didn’t tell her, suspected I had ratted on her and I could count on staying after school for at least a week.

Back to Mitzi and the kit. It was, as we were lining up for recess, that I gave her a strawberry kit, value 1/5 cent. Of course then I didn’t think of the value, but back in our seats, after recess, “Would you like to come to my house after school?” Mitzi asked. Of course, I said, “yes.”

I lived right next door to the school, in a house furnished to the school principal. Mitzi lived about three blocks from the school in a nice house with a big yard, swings, a see-saw, and a badminton court. By the time I stayed after school, Mitzi had time to walk home and change clothes. I hurried over to her house where Mitzi and I played, her mother fixed us kool-aid, and I had a wonderful time. I thought, I could do this every day.

This had been going on for close to a week, when Mitzi’s mother asked me to mow the grass. I did and when I finished she offered me, and I accepted fifty cents. Perhaps I was supposed to or should have refused the pay, but fifty cents was a lot of money to me, and they did have a big yard.  At school the next day Mitzi wouldn’t talk with me, and I was never invited to play again.

Mitzi must have asked Mrs. Godfrey to change her seat as she was no longer sitting next to me.  I thought, I lost my true love, due to my love of money. The school year ended and I escaped from Mrs. Godfrey, or perhaps she felt she escaped from me.

For the next three years my father took the principalship of a different school in another school district, so I didn’t get to see Mitzi for the next three years, which was probably just as good since she wasn’t talking with me.  When I entered the ninth grade my father moved back to his old school district, but was now the high school principal. Sort of confusing, but I’ll bet Mrs. Godfrey was glad.

When I entered the seventh grade I had joined the school band, and remained in the high school band in the ninth grade. Yes, you guessed it, Mitzi was now in the school band, but she during these three years had gained considerable weight, and was no longer the cute little blond headed girl, slim with beautiful teeth, and pretty legs, but she had developed rather large breasts.

We were friendly with one another, but were just friends. One day the school band was going to a nearby town to perform in a concert and Mitzi, who played the drums, was trying to get her drums on the bus. I was already on the bus, but went to help her. Standing above her, I could see down her blouse, and guess what, you would never guess, but it’s the truth. Mitzi had hair on her chest.

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