My Experience In My School

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It was just another ordinary run-of-the-mill Friday in the bustling City of Hutchinson, Minnesota… or at least that's what I thought as I awoke to the sound of my Mom calling for me to wake up from the downstairs kitchen. The birds were chirping, the sounds of traffic on main street were growing increasingly louder, and the sun was starting to slowly creep above the trees and shine into my small upstairs bedroom. Little did I know that this was the day I would get into a sizeable amount of trouble at school for the very first time. This trouble would not only be extremely shameful, but would also teach me a valuable lesson that would stick with me for the rest of my life. Hoisting myself out of bed, I rummaged around my old dresser in search of my school uniform. Every Friday the Students and Staff of St. Anastasia Catholic School attended a mass and were also required to look the part. That meant seven long and uncomfortable hours stuck in gray/blue dress pants and a white collared polo shirt. With a deep sigh of resentment, I shoved the uniform on, gathered my necessary school belongings, and bounded down the stairs to see what was for breakfast. My older sister was already downstairs eating. My Mom had made my all-time favorite breakfast; buttermilk waffles, and cheesy scrambled eggs with a large glass of orange juice to top it off! I guess she was feeling cheerful that summer was right around the corner and I had almost made it through the fourth grade without any big
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