Which Reminds Me of a Story

By Dr. Daniel Singh

This book is a collection of short autobiographical anecdotes written for the "tween." Each is an entertaining true story of life as it happened to the author at that age but told in a way that engages the younger reader! The reader will be able to relate to the timeless content of each story, which might be about emotions we felt, finding what's fair and unfair, dealing with embarrassments and hurts, and going through situations with family and friends, to name just a few. Don’t be surprised if the reader also begins to reflect on his or her own experiences in life, thus building on learning from personal memories!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9781669811015

Dr. Daniel Singh

Dr. Singh possesses a wide background as a successful educator. His formal degrees include Bachelor of Science in Elementary Education, Master of Arts in Educational Psychology, and Ed.D. in Education. He devoted over thirty years in the field as a principal, curriculum director, and university assistant professor, but for most of his career he was a classroom teacher, working each day with children from pre-school through high school. Dr. Singh brings deep experience and understanding of children at various ages.

Book preview

THE BURP HEARD

’ROUND THE WORLD

You burp. I burp. Everybody burps. If you babysit infants, you know it’s wise to have a burp towel on your shoulder in case the little one blubs onto you while burping him/her. You might say, when it comes to humans, every-body burps. It’s a fact of life, isn’t it?

Having been a teacher, I know it happens in the classroom too, but have you noticed there are differences as to how burping is accepted among boys and girls? In most social gatherings, girls tend to refrain from burping. It’s as if it were an unspoken rule among them: ladies simply try to avoid doing so in public, if they can help it. If they do burp intentionally, it’s often for comedic effect or at just-girls gatherings, like at a sleepover or slumber party. Boys can be different. They tend to feel less inhibited about burping, and there’s the inevitable one or two in class who discovers how to swallow air and do it at will. Guys even come up with contests among them—who can burp the longest, the grossest, or do chain-belching (one after the other in a series). Sometimes a kid in class who’s clowning around (usually a boy, almost never a girl) will burp loudly to get attention or provoke a reaction out of others. As you can imagine, this usually doesn’t go over well with the teacher!

Every once in a great while, however, there comes the rare perfect storm that brings forth a burp that defies the laws of the universe—and herein lies my tale.

It was lunchtime in the school cafeteria. I was in the third grade, therefore eight going on nine. Typical in elementary schools, the gym was used as the cafeteria, and the entire school was there having lunch. Filling the cafeteria were the many long tables with fold-down bench seats that could seat a whole class at once. Oh, I want to give a shout-out to the kitchen staff of my school. They were amazing! Every day they would prepare tasty fresh meals of a healthy variety for all the students. Desserts were a special treat too. They could be selections like a brownie, a cookie, strawberry shortcake with whipped cream on top, or other good stuff. And throughout the week, if there were any leftover, you could buy seconds for only 5¢. I usually kept an extra nickel in my pocket for those occasions!

This day, as usual, I went through the line, got my tray of lunch, and took a place at my class’s table. I sat down at the far end, and joining me were a couple of friends, identical twins Geoff and Gerry Kingston. They were so close in looks it was hard to tell them apart, but as is the case when you’re around twins often enough, you begin to pick out little differences to know who was who. Thank goodness my elementary school was not one of those that expected students to eat in monastic silence, or at best, in muted conversation. Not shouting, but normal, conversationally close, twelve-inch voices were fine. So there the three of us were, having our lunch along with the rest of the class, everyone eating and chatting away.

Most days, our teacher, Mrs. Rickert, joined us for lunch. She would sit in the middle, on one side or the other. She was an older teacher, and although she had some tolerance for the goofy things third graders can do, that only went so far with her. Nevertheless, it’s fair to say she enjoyed teaching and our class, and would eat with us.

Today, however, we had one more adult. The principal, Mr. Danforth, decided to join the school’s lunchtime in the cafeteria, and wouldn’t you know it, he picked our table at which to sit. As you know, principals have to run a school from top to bottom and deal with a wide variety of problems, so they like it best when things run smoothly. Mr. Danforth enjoyed children and seemed to understand kids need to talk with friends at lunchtime, but he was the top person in charge, so class behavior was generally a notch or two better when he was around. After all, who wants to get in trouble with the principal? Mr. Danforth sat down at the head of the table, at the opposite end. All was well, just another day with the whole cafeteria filled with the sounds of hundreds of kids.

I’d been eating and talking with the twins when about midway through lunchtime, I started having this very strange, unsettled feeling in my stomach. A rumble would come, then subside. This repeated several times. I paused for a few seconds, just feeling the rumbles.

Ugh, weird . . ., I thought, and then I went on with the next forkful. I didn’t know it at the time, but the perfect storm was brewing!

My mouth was open and ready to take a bite when suddenly, without warning, there exploded from me this horrendous volcanic eruption of a burp. W-A-A-A-A-H-H! It was as if a bomb went off! The sound filled the entire lunch room and echoed off the walls! You might not believe a human body could possibly produce a burp of such enormous magnitude, but cross my heart, it did! In fact—and this is the god’s honest truth—it was so loud that every voice in the cafeteria ceased talking at once. The whole place was instantly brought to dead silence, and for a few seconds you could literally hear a pin drop! Everyone must have been wondering in bewilderment and curiosity, "What was that?" Yes, ’twas the burp heard ’round the world!

At this point, I’m feeling totally embarrassed on the inside. On the outside, however, I’m trying to look as innocent as a newborn lamb. I sneaked a peek up the table at Mrs. Rickert and then at Principal Danforth. What were their reactions? Did they know it was me? Was I going to be in trouble? The teacher raked her gaze up and down the table at every student, trying to discern who the rude offender was, but no, she couldn’t tell. The principal, still seated, also had his radar up. He scanned our table first, then craned his neck up high to check across the cafeteria. Who did that? Who was responsible for this disorderliness? He didn’t know either! Whew, I was safe!

I think they should have suspected something. Had they looked down at my end of the table more carefully, they would have noticed that I now appeared to be eating alone. That’s because—and this too is the honest, I-kid-you-not truth—Geoff and Gerry were so overwhelmed by my volcanic burp gaffe that they’d completely imploded and were now underneath the table! They were rolling around down there, holding their sides, the two of them hysterically laughing their heads off!

And me? I tried my best to nonchalantly take my next bite . . .

FIRST BICYCLE

Transportation is essential for adults, but kids need to get around too. In fact, it’s common for kids to use a bicycle until being able to drive a car, and even thereafter. And it sticks in the brain. They say once you’ve learned how to ride a bicycle, you never forget. There’s also the saying that if performing or becoming reacquainted with a task you expect to be easy, it’s like riding a bicycle.

Remember your first bike? For me, it was the summer of 1961, and I had just turned six. Other kids about my age had bikes, so one morning, I approached Dad about the prospect of getting one. He was in the living room reading the newspaper.

Say, Dad, could I have a bicycle?

I was expecting a yes or no answer but what he said surprised me. It came in the form of a challenge. He looked up from his paper and responded with one simple sentence: You show me you know how to ride a bicycle, and I’ll get you one.

I went to my room and flopped onto my bed. I stared up at the ceiling and started thinking. Sheesh, this was a tough one. How can I show Dad I know how to ride a bicycle without actually owning one? Then, an idea!

My street, Blinker Drive, was a gentle incline, and we lived at the bottom. The top of the street was a cul-de-sac where there lived a friend of mine, a third grade girl named Kylee. She had what was called a girl’s bicycle. In those days, pants were not commonly worn by girls; therefore, a girl’s bike was built without a crossbar so that a skirt could be accommodated. I went up the street, found Kylee, and explained my predicament. She agreed to teach me, and we headed out to her garage.

She rolled her blue bicycle with its balloon tires and flared handlebars onto the driveway and proceeded to do doughnuts, showing me how pedaling and steering were done.

Now it’s your turn, Kylee said.

Training wheels and helmets were not in typical use then, nor were down-sized children’s bicycles being made yet, so it was a little tricky for me since Kylee was taller and the seat set at the right height for her. I wasn’t successful right away.

Push the pedals hard, Daniel, Kylee urged.

Okay, Kylee, I’m trying, I’m trying . . . It took several more goes at it there in her driveway, pushing those pedals down as hard as I could, but soon I began to get the hang of it.

After a few more minutes of practice under Kylee’s watchful eye, I gathered up what I judged to be enough know-how to show Dad, and