In junior high, I got grounded for a week for making a B in algebra.
At the time, of course, I thought my mom was the meanest, least understanding Tiger Mom in the entire world. I am sure I cursed her under my breath, to my friends, and in one of my many journals. Woe was me. It simply was not fair. I had All A’s and just one B on my 9-weeks report card. Why wasn’t that good enough?
During the week when I was grounded, I studied harder and did all of my homework. I wasn’t allowed to talk on the phone so I spent my time on schoolwork and brooding over my misfortunes instead. I daydreamed less often about the hunky boy I was obsessed with, who is now 35 and has very little hair and a gigantic beer belly. I thought the week would never end.
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