being seven years old and standing in the front of my second-grade classroom. I am standing in a line of students that stretched across the front of the class, so I guess that it is for a spelling bee, or one of those types of classroom games. I am standing next to a boy- possibly Mark O'Dell, but not definitely- and when we all have to shift a little closer to each other for some reason, our bottoms briefly touch. I wonder if this means I'm going to have a baby. After contemplating this for a time, I decide that I'm safe, because I'm wearing clothes.
being around that same age and knowing that "gay" means "happy" and wondering why my two classmates are showing off and giggling at a vocabulary flashcard with that word on it.
walking with my mother to the limosine from the funeral service for my grandfather to go to the grave site. I am sad, and have been for some days, but I am also a small girl and this is the first time I remember seeing a limosine. I am sad, but curious. I ask my mother "Is this a stretch limo?" My mother doesn't hear me, but the driver does. She says "How touching." Sarcastically. I understand the sarcasm, but I don't understand what she means. I think that she is insulted that I don't know about limosines. Possibly a decade later, I remember the incident and finally realize that the woman was commenting on my apparent lack of grief.