I am pretty sure that I was absent on key days while in school.
During elementary school.
Wherein they passed out all of the vital information imperative to
a successful adulthood.
Indiana Jones style skeleton keys.
Here’s the missing portion of the ancient map that leads you through the ruins to the Island of the Well Acclimated.
Maybe I was in the bathroom when it happened.
I do have a very delicate bladder.
As a kid, my dad never let us pee while on long distance car trips.
Bathroom breaks would sabotage his master plan of always beating
the apparently ever looming traffic along the I95.
14 hours of holding it in, in the back of a Crown Victoria– your bladder is shot by age 8.
We’re talking comparable to the urinary tract of a 73-year-old Italian woman,
who as a girl was paid by the piece to work on the line of a Lower East Side
button factory with no fire escape.
So maybe, yes, I was in the bathroom and missed the doling out of life’s essential tidbits.
“This, boys and girls, is how you graciously exit an awkward conversation.”
“Right here in this jar is something called follow-through.”
“And with this here, love will be a 1-2-3 cinch.”
I only got long division and a scorched earth policy.
Somehow, they’re just not as helpful.