I began to love reading in first grade. I wish that I could say that it was my natural born intellectual curiosity kicking in, but to be honest, it had more to do with competition and revenge than anything else. You see, my class was having a reading competition based on who could read the most books by the end of the year. Everyone knew that Ryan was a shoo-in to win . Despite being the class trouble maker (and only six years old) , he was an avid reader . So I came up with a goal: To beat Ryan in the reading competition. Why so competitive with my fellow first grader? Well, only a week before, Ryan had put, no, smushed a worm into my hair during recess. Ryan would pay! It was time to dethrone our precious little resident reader and submit him to the same kind of shame and humiliation I had felt whilst having the school nurse ring the worm juices out of my hair. I started reading with a ravenous appetite. I was a wild predator, preying on books, devouring each page with only one thought in mind, “Take that Ryan!” I know this may all sound a bit vengeful and intense for a six year old, but really, all I was was an adorable little girl with bouncy pig tails, blue eyes that took up half her face, a plaid catholic school uniform, missing teeth, and a thirst for revenge.

Finally came the day in which Mrs. Bucken (our teacher) had promised to reveal the winner of the 1999 Reading Competition. Oh how I longed for that moment, when all my hard work would pay off! When she would crown me as The-Best-Reader-By-Far-As-In-Much-Better-Than-You-Ryan. I couldn’t wait to see him choke on his fruit roll-up as my classmates applauded me as the new resident reader. Who’s the worm now ryan? WHO’S THE WORM NOW?

Well apparently I was still the worm, because Ryan won. However, I did leave the competition (and first grade) , with a new sense of appreciation towards reading. To this day I thoroughly enjoy reading any book in sight. I can enjoy a book on almost any topic. Any topic , that is, except worms.