The Right Foot

Katie is a Teacher

Copyright 2011 by Katie is a Teacher

Published by Pretty Pink Press at Smashwords

Chapter One

I feel like I should start out on the right foot here and tell the whole truth, even if it may affect people’s opinion of how terrible a person I am. I’m of the belief that no one particularly cares for a liar, no matter how witty, intelligent, and good-looking they are. So even if I am an insufferable know-it-all – which, albeit, people also don’t generally care for – at least I come by it honestly. I feel like honesty is something people can really respect; like three-legged dogs, or Quakers, or those annoying people who run for politics even though they know nothing about the government because there’s a pothole in front of their house that really pisses everyone in the neighbourhood off. I’d say I’m definitely like those people. Except that I’m less irritating because I hate annoying people, and I’d rather not place myself into the same category. Also because I probably know more about both politics and potholes than at least 93% of the collective population. I know this because, of the people I’ve met, 93% is the rough percentage of how many of them are complete morons.

Anyway, back to the honesty thing; I feel like it’s my duty to admit to the fact that – when I was young – I was actually quite fickle. It’s true. I absolutely hate to say it, but I feel like it has to be mentioned. For example, when I was seven, I begged my mother for sea monkeys until she finally relented and bought me the little plastic aquarium and the package of dried little monkeys that inexplicably come to life in water. As it turns out, cats like eating strange little creatures and our cat, Oliver, was no exception. He ate every last one of them a mere week after they’d turned from dried up cat-food into well-watered, slimy cat-food. That wouldn’t have been so bad, except that all the thrill of my new friends had already passed, so I didn’t even notice they’d mysteriously vanished for nine days. That sent my mother into quite a tizzy, going off on how irresponsible I was and wondering what sort of person doesn’t realize that an entire army of living creatures has been savagely killed by a rogue feline. Before that, when I was five and I wanted to take ballet more than anything else in the whole wide world, I was signed up after extensive promises that I would practice all the time and become the best ballerina in the world, doing my family proud as I spun my way into the hearts of ballet enthusiasts worldwide. As it turns out, I enjoyed it for only two weeks until I realized that the leotard and little pink slippers were much better suited for makeshift synchronized swimming in a giant mud puddle I found in the park down the street.

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