Phone Problem

Image by Alessandro Antonelli via Wikimedia Commons

When I was a freshman in high school, my parents gave my first cellphone. It was a brand new Nokia 5300 that came with sliding action and a music player. Even though it wasn't as amazing as phones nowadays, it was cool at the time.

I was very proud of carrying my portable piece of white brick in my hand. I felt like a total badass sliding my phone and rocking out to music. Especially to a certain song that mentions milkshakes bringing boys the yard. Preferably, the version with an electric guitar.

Unfortunately, my high school did not allow students to parade with their cellphones in their hands. We either have to stuff them in our backpacks or store them in our lockers. Since I didn't want my phone to go off in my backpack during class, I thought keeping my precious block in the locker room was a brilliant idea.

One day after school, I couldn't get my phone out of the locker. I tried sliding the handle open, but the textbooks jammed my locker from the inside. I wished I would have stayed longer to get it out. But because my dad was in a hurry to pick me and my sister up, I was forced to leave my phone in my locker.

The next morning, I walked in the locker room only to find my classmates hurdling over the area where my locker is at. Once I heard that familiar tune, I knew that the commotion had to do something with me.

My phone really brought the kids to my yard (locker). They were grinning ear to ear just listening to Milkshakes playing on repeat. One of my classmates asked, "Who is that dumb to have this song playing in their locker?"

Since the locker belonged to me, I was forced to step up and retrieve my phone. I don't remember the details of how I got my brick-of-a-phone out, but I remember how embarrassing it was to see everybody crowding up near my locker.

If there is some business that you need to take care of, it's best to do it now. Otherwise, Milkshakes will be playing out loud in the locker room.

That Damn Cake

Image by redvisualg via stock.xchng

When I was 4 years old, my parents and I attended my sister Michelle's Pre-K end-of-the-year ceremony. At the time, I didn't know what was going on. So instead of sitting patiently and watching my sister's class performance and the receiving of fake diplomas, I wandered around the cafeteria (the place where it's held) while clutching onto my plastic Barbie purse.

After the ceremony was over, everybody headed over to the classroom to celebrate. My parents let me follow my sister around the classroom to keep her company. Then, I saw it. Sitting in the middle of a few desks covered in tablecloths, its pastel looks beckoned me to devour it. It's cake.

Unfortunately, the slices were for Michelle's Pre-K class only. Instead of enjoying a piece of cake with the kids, I stood awkwardly near Michelle while she sat comfortably on her desk eating some of that cake.

If I was violent, I would have bopped my sister in the head with my purse and steal her cake. But since there were a lot of adults and children surrounding us, that's impossible. Plus, I would have never thought of that idea since my little eyes were fixated on Michelle's cake slice.

"Lisa! It's time go! Say goodbye to your sister!" my mother shouted, breaking my trance.

What? I have to leave without getting a piece of cake? My 4-year-old logic told me I must take some desperate measures to get what I want.

Before my parents dragged me out the classroom with them, my tiny hands grabbed the edge of the door frame and held it tightly. I was hoping that my parents would get the message that I want to stay for cake. Unfortunately, they didn't get the memo.

They attempted to pull me away from the door, but I was kicking and screaming. My mom tried multiple times to calm me down, but that didn't help the situation. So, my parents received backup. Mrs. Ortega, my sister's teacher, arrived to remove the 4-year-old ruckus from her classroom.

"Goodbye, Lisa," Mrs. Ortega said sternly.

"Goodbye, Daddy!" I cried as my parents successfully pulled me out of the classroom.

I think they felt sorry for me because they thought I wanted to stay with my older sister. In reality, I wanted to stay because of that edible block the Pre-K kids get to eat. What child would want to leave a piece of pastry perfection behind?

If I learned anything from little 4-year-old me, it's that kids would do the darndest things to get what they really want. I should have rationalized with the adults for cake in the first place. But do you think little Lisa would know about negotiation and how that would save everybody from so much trouble? Of course, not. You can't blame that little critter for craving stuff. I just want that damn cake.