Bless me, Father, for I have sinned; it’s been 27 years since my last confession.
Okay, so I’m not really Catholic (hence the lack of Reconciliation). However, I did go to Catholic school for six years and am therefore somewhat familiar with the sacraments.
And if I were Catholic, I would have made this confession long ago. But since I’m not, I’m going to make it right now. I’m comin’ clean.
When I was in first grade, my teacher, Mrs. Pucker (cutest name ever), noticed that I was able to do certain things that a lot of the other first graders (apparently) couldn’t do, like reading and telling time. So, it was decided that Little Candy would go to the second grade for a couple of hours each day for
Naturally, the next year, when I was actually in second grade, I had to go to third grade for
Seriously. During Math, I would sit in a corner by myself and “do homework,” and then, when I was sufficiently satisfied that I had learned all of the material in a chapter, I would take the test. Which meant that I would carry the teacher’s manual down to the office and make a copy of the chapter test, and then I would bring it back to the classroom and take it. And then I would grade it.
And during that whole school year, there was not one test that I didn’t cheat on. Sure, I would honestly complete the test, but when it came time to grade it (which, by the way, who the hell gives an eleven-year-old this much freedom???), I would mark exactly two or three answers wrong every time (so it wouldn’t raise suspicion), and then I would proudly present my grade of 94 or 96 to my teacher and announce that I was ready to begin the next chapter.
I never told anyone what I was doing.
But, despite all that monkey business, I did actually learn some math that year. I know this because, when I transferred to public school in seventh grade (because we had moved across town, and my parents felt that I had gotten everything out of private school that I needed…in other words, they were sick of paying for it), I took a test (which I didn't also grade) and qualified for eighth grade (or, accelerated) Math. But I still felt pretty ashamed of all the cheating and lying I’d done.
So, sixteen years later, I’d just like to say: I’m sorry, Mrs. Jenkinson. If I were Catholic, I would certainly do penance for my sin.
There, I feel better now.