2-MINUTE MEMOIR: Funerals for Slugs

22 Jan

When I was in second grade, we had two recesses per day, one after lunch and one later in the afternoon.

At lunch recess one day, there was a slug on the wall outside our classroom. When we came back for afternoon recess, it was dead. Naturally, we felt that the slug deserved a funeral.

Ten or twelve of us second graders gathered together to dig a grave for the slug on the side of the playground and bury him. We also, posthumously, named him – I believe the name was Sluggy but, this being thirteen years ago, I’m not entirely sure. Sluggy, I apologize if I’m misremembering your name.

That fifteen-minute funeral was not enough for our friend Sluggy. So the next day, at lunch recess, we went to the gravesite to continue the proceedings. There was dancing, singing, jokes and grave-decorating. It was a very elaborate funeral that carried into afternoon recess. And the next day. And the day after that. For about two weeks.

The popular girls of second grade, the ones who would grow up to have perfect hair, decided we were weird. Eventually, they decided to put an end to all of this madness. One day, one of them ran over to tell us another girl was stuck on top of the monkey bars. Naturally, we all had to run over to help. In retrospect, this makes no sense, because she was the best monkey-barrer of our whole class.

While we were distracted by the impending doom of our classmate, one of her friends ran back to our slug gravesite, dug up Sluggy, and threw him over the fence.

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