When I was a little boy, I used to have to go to this special room and meet with this teacher that looked like Abe Lincoln. He used to perform tests on me and ask me things like; "What do you think of when I say Bugs Bunny?" He'd take notes and, I guess, in the end his evaluation of me was that I didn't really fit-in with the other kids. So, I got to spend a year in a special ed class with other misfits. It was way better... we had hamsters and I remember these spinning racks of colorful paperbacks and magazines like Ranger Rick I used to try to read but couldn't but it didn't really matter anyway because I couldn't wait until after school when I would get to go with my Mom to the Beauty Bar.
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