Life Sucks

Preschool

My mother kissed my forehead, and I jerked away, even though I secretly loved it.

"Have a GREAT day, pickle! Mommy will be here to pick you up at lunchtime!" I couldn't resist the urge to wrap my arms around her legs. She was great. Never too mean, but strict enough to keep me in line.

She bent down and hugged me back, quietly. "Be good, pickle."

I smiled and looked up at her. "Bye, mom! Love you!" Then I ran to the door of the preschool. I stopped once at the door to look back at her. She was crying.

I had never seen my mother cry before.

I gave her a big, goofy smile, waved, and ran into the unknown depths of my new adventure.

I guess preschool was alright. Everything was easy for me. All we did was color and play.

There was one thing about preschool I'll never forget: the teacher kept the solar system on the ceiling.

That was the very first thing I noticed. The little model of the solar system hanging above the reading center.

At recess, I never really interacted with the other kids. I just played with toy cars on the sidewalk. I never bothered anybody, but they bothered me.

The "popular kids" were always kicking my cars, kicking me. The had no respect for modern engineering.

I always liked to think lots of men with big brains sat around forever, using their big brains to design a toy car. Just for me. Just me, the small, insignificant Mark Watney. Quite a way to think, huh?

I knew deep down the cars were all generic, but I added my own personal touch to them.

My mom would hand me a toy car and I got to work. Rigged it up to be an RC car, painting them different colors. My mother was astounded and took them in to Cal Tech, but they made a duplicate in under a minute.

And on top of that, they basically compared me to other children, calling me stupid.

Anyway. Back to preschool recess. I usually played in the dark corners, away from people. People are overrated, am I right?

Nobody ever noticed me, or the amazing things I could do. They just did what they do. Chase each other around like morons, dig holes in the sand box, picked their noses. I just modified toy cars, alone in a dark corner.

Hey, I should join the black market.

The ball rings and we all flood inside. Me last, given the fact everybody pushes me to the back of the crowd.

I think to myself: "Maybe, one day, I'll laugh at them from Mars."

Huh. What a silly thought. Who would've thought of going to Mars? Especially when they're four... AND nobody has ever been to Mars.

Oh, well. Guess I'll just have to put up with them for now.

When lunchtime rolled around, my mom came and picked me up, just like she said she would. We went out for ice cream and I told her about all the good parts of my day. No need to tell her the bad parts, she'll only worry more than necessary.

So I guess I didn't die on my first day of preschool. Probably pure luck.