Pinky

Primary school, what a wonderful experience and full of great and so so memories. So many friends, so many games and so little time to fully exploit the wonders of school time. Hide and seek and hanging about in boy groups and the girls with their own. Even at that age we felt more comfortable with our own genders and it wasn't unusual to ridicule specially from boy to girl.

Milk break which meant, well 15 minutes to drink your free moo juice kindly provided by the Goverment to help those growing bones enrich themselves with liquid calcium. Painting, drawing, building blocks simple things but interesting and everyone gladly took part. Television was a new thing but wasn't missed. If it wasn't there then how can you miss something you have never had?
Life was simpler than now but boring, no it was grand.

What I remember most was Miss O'Reilly's art class where the we were all given a blank piece of paper. About 30 pieces in total scattered on single desks uniformly around the room. Crayons at the ready, excitement bubbling awaiting instructions. Hopefully it will be creatures of the sea. I love sharks and what I loved most was drawing them, specially their teeth.

The title was Me. We had to draw a self portrait and after further instructions just our face. Thoughts were circulating the creative part of my brain. Circle for face, two ears, lips, eyes, mouth and so on. Thinking back Art was also a great vocabulary teacher.
''My hair is brown and falls down over my eye, is it both or the right?'' So many questions to achieve perfection.

Time wasn't of an essence but after a few ''Are we nearly finished'' from Miss O'Reilly I knew I had to finish soon and proudly I did so. ''Don't forget to write your name at the bottom'' And we all dully did. The pictures where picked up and assembled into one neat bundle on the teacher's desk.

One by one they were shown to the whole class. Some were difficult to decipher, ''Is it a girl or a long haired boy, but we don't have long haired boys so which girl is it?'' It was fun and interesting and there wasn't any restlessness in the classroom all waiting for their Mona Lisa to appear. Some pictures were actually very life like looking at it with the perspective of an eight year old whilst others were, er not bad. Finally mine was shown and I could feel goosebumps and the widening of my eyes.

I heard a lone snigger then another and another each feeding of each other culminating into a crescendo of laughter. ''Why'' I wondered. Mild panic was desending but the main feeling was of confusion and the word why? Wavy hair, one nose, two eyes and I didn't forget the eyebrows. Where the ears level? So many questions and finally no nearer to the answer. The next picture was revealed and the laughter died down but unfortunately I was in my bubble lost and wondering.

Miss handed out the drawings and before long again the papers were on the desks and I was still searching for answers. I looked to my left and right and there wasn't any differences that stood out. Hair, face, eyes x2, ears x2, nose, neck and mouth with lips, all there so why? I asked my best friend Liam why was my picture so funny and he quickly replied with, ''The colour'' and said no more.

Back home and after the normal ''my that is a grand drawing, what did you do today'' and so on I took my picture to to my bedroom and laid on my bed clutching it to my chest, still thinking and trying to find out the reason. I got up and looked at the mirror, the same check but with the addition of my hair colour. Yes it is brown and the crayon was brown so? I put the drawing alongside my face and looked at the mirror. It wasn't long when I discovered one big difference. My drawing had a pink face and it looked normal. I looked at mine and didn't see pink but a brown. Not as dark as the top of my head but an olive brown. The penny dropped and all was explained . Innocence was replaced with reality and another lesson was learnt, one of the many to come in becoming an adult. I tossed the drawing to the side and started playing with my plastic soldiers bored with and instantly forgetting my latest lesson. War waits for no boy specially if you're now in danger of being overun by the enemy.