Mostly what I remember about my high school years was that I didn’t have the faintest idea what was going on in class. No idea in algebra, which I believe I had three times, no clue in earth science. I was marginally more clued in Mechanical Drawing, and I did know what was going on English class. This is what I remember from Freshman English.
I was chewing gum. The boy next to me was my next door neighbor. He had hardly spoken to me since we were best friends at the age of 5 and sailed leaf boats in the gutter together. The English teacher was talking about Pippi Longstocking. She caught my jaw moving.
“ You spit that gum out. You’re over there chewing your cud like a happy little cow.”
David (my neighbor) looked at me completely deadpan. “Are you a happy little cow? Are you really a happy little cow?” His first words to me since we were five. The last until our twentieth reunion.
I have taught all my classes how to say laeta parva vacca sum. I am a happy little cow. It commemorates that moment in English.