Class of 1984: A Moment In The Life Of A Kindergartener

"Dear Diary: Today we had to apply the bite of new Prang crayons to the dittos our teacher handed out. Fie, how my fingers ached. I've moved far beyond the ditto tinting. I'm beyond the cottonball tails, the paper bag owls, and the sponge paint fall trees. But when I sample the taste of creative freedom and make swirls instead of sponge daubs, what does Miss Honeypot tell me? That I AM DOING IT WRONG. I'm NOT FOLLOWING DIRECTIONS. And what happens to people who don't follow directions? They have to sit back in the play corner, by the play stove, and listen to that confounded Wee Sing record. Honest to GOD, if I hear that bloody Wee Sing record one more time, I'm ripping it off the turntable and turning it into a special enema for teacher. HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW, MISS FACIST-POT?
We had our pictures taken today, Diary. Can you see the fight in my eyes? The fury? Oh, to give for the taste of freedom on the playground...to not get stung in the car tire mountain....to not get pushed off the rocking duck...to get to ride the big kid sliding board and not that pansy-ass one on our side of the playground...oh, taste of sweet freedom...."