So, first of all, I turned seven right before first grade, if the fact that I have poor motor skills to this day didn't immediately tip you off that I started kindergarten late. We were supposed to go to this kid's amusement park, but of course everything had to get rearranged when the interchangeable pediatrician (seriously, there were like a million dudes in the practice and my mother never cared which one I saw) told me I had strep and gave me an injection of antibiotics in my behind for my birthday. I did not have the massive amounts of padding there that I do now and (unlike when I got the same antibiotic and steroid shot to treat my strep/thrush/mono/awesome hallucinations disease years later) it really, really hurt. At least I got my birthday present early.
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