Mrs. Dr. Knickerbocker by Debbie Mascot
One time, at band camp... no I'm just kidding. I never was in band. Nor camp. But one time, I had to write an autobiography. It was in the eighth grade. The English teacher assigned it at the beginning of the year and it wasn't due until the end of the year. I have it in my Trunk of Horrors at home. I should go and read it over again. Anyway, I wrote a story in it about what my future was going to be. It amuses me to no end to remember.
I remember thinking of all I wanted to write in it, but not being able to start because my husband didn't have a name. I asked my teacher to give him a name for me and she said, "Knickerbocker. Kevin Knickerbocker." So that's who I married right after I finished nursing school. I met him in nursing school. He became a doctor and I became a nurse. My eighth grade brain kinda thought that doctors and nurses went to the same school, but doctors just stayed there longer. My Kevin had been there before I got there, so we finished at the same time. We lived in a big house and had two children of our own and adopted a blind kid. My friend Kris and her husband (I forget his name) lived nearby and we all went to the movies together every Saturday night and hired babysitters that reminded us of how we used to be when we were in junior high school.
Um... to quote my eighth grade self... "GROSS!!!" That is so darn boring and so NOT how I want my life to be! Thank God dreams do not always come true. In real life, I'd have kicked Kevin's doctor butt several times over for cheating on me with his little short-skirt wearing Barbie nurse and then packed up the kids and sent them to have Grandma raise them while I went on a Recovery Cruise to soothe my psyche from the administration of all those shots. When I returned from my world cruise, I'd live on my alimony money and probably be like Patty or Selma of The Simpsons. Letting Mom raise my messed up kids while I lived with an iguana named Jub Jub.