“I’m Not Playing!”

A scruffy young lad named Bobby,
Ran into a girl who was snobby,
She flew the red flag,
When he played kissing tag,
Now his head on one side is all knobby.

Poor Bobby White. He was just trying to have a little first grade fun and little Mary Troyer wouldn’t comply. I remember it clear as day…standing at the door of the steps to Mrs. Wendell’s room in all my pious indignation at the thought that my friends would stoop to such a level as to play kissing tag. The bell had rung and I, faithful to my mothers admonitions against such things, had not been able to participate in any of the recess games. As you can imagine I was already a bit frustrated. To make matters worse Bobby White, one of the bigger boys in class marched himself right up to me and grabbed me without an ounce of chivalry. Though I was much smaller, I was standing at almost eye level with him because I was on the steps going up to the class room from the playground. I knew his intentions and had already proclaimed my stance of non-participation so coupled with my frustration at not being a part of things I was angry that he would consider including me against my will. I must be a girl. I grabbed a fistful of his oddly colored and ill trimmed hair and pulled his face all the way to the dirt below my feet and cried out, “I’m not playing!”

His “Ow, ow, ow” was followed by a cheer from my dearest friend Shannon who saw the whole thing and clapped in favor of my obvious victory. At least I got some frustration out.

Though the limerick asserts that I may have more seriously injured Bobby…it was only to keep the integrity of the rhyme scheme…not the integrity of the story.