I've got my shoes tied up all tight

Perhaps the phrase "first day of school" evokes feelings of excitement, nervousness, or stress, but venture back a bit farther. Do you recall your very first day of school? Your spiderman/barbie lunch box nestled safely deep in your brand new backpack (already slightly worn because it has doubled as your portable toy closet for the last 3 weeks.) Saying goodbye to your mother at the unloading dock? Meeting children who said words your mother made you promise never to think? Having the best snacks at lunchtime and becoming an instant celebrity? Or maybe you were the kid with carrot sticks. (Your value was measured by how accurately you could use them as projectiles.)

Ahh the good old days right?

A far cry from my own first day of school. You see, I was home schooled.

My first day of public school I attended Bonanza High School (hail the tacky brown and gold). If you thought the "lunchbox economy" was tough to deal with, the "coolness equates to social class economy" was a real treat. Instead of worrying about whether or not the girls would try to chase you at recess, my greatest fear was being wrestled in PE by the girl who clearly had enough testosterone for the both of us. (P.s. Using "blooming" as the description for a boy becoming a man has never seemed appropriate.)

Annyyways... After safely maneuvering my way through various nefarious characters, closed-eyed couples, and the 1000 year old hallway monitor, I arrived at my first period class.

Honors Physics with Miss Penny...whom we lovingly referred to as Jabba the hut. (I'm not proud of this, but since I will soon be joining her at the bottom of the social totem poll, I figure you should know how bad it was down there.)

Please understand that I am now surrounded for the first time in my life by more than 20 girls all my own age and none of which I am related to. I am sure to locate myself conspicuously behind the girl with the long brown hair. Helllllo Chelsea. First freshman year crush. Unfortunately, I was 60 seconds away from sabotaging the likelihood of that little romance working out. My physics teacher decided to demonstrate some teaching didactics (for the first and last time all year) and used the white board. She scrawled "CHAOS" across the board and slowly swiveled around to face the class.

"Class," She begins. "Does anyone know what this word means?"

Finally. This was the moment I had dreamed for. Everyone in the class would see once and for all that home-schooled kids knew stuff too. We didn't always have to be the ADD/kleptomaniac that couldn't function around other kids their age. We could be normal, social, intelligent human beings. My hand rocketed into the air with an alacrity that Hermione would have envied.

"Well Chaos means....."

That was as far as I got before the class erupted into jubilant laughter; leaving me totally nonplussed. I wondered what could have possibly destroyed the moment that was to be the resplendent beginning of a world of popularity, friends, and dates with the brown haired girl?

You see...Although my science books had done a superb job at teaching me the meaning of Chaos, it seems I had glossed over its pronunciation. Those pesky "CH" sounds can be so troublesome. And I had butchered it.

Moral of this story goes out to you home schooled kids. Its eye-land...not is-land. Kaos...Not Churros. May your first day be as dreamy as mine...wasn't.