Mean Girl #1: A Grandmother’s Remedy
December 16, 2008 — life lessons, mean girls, Writing
My grandmother Mimi was a spitfire. Born and raised in the Texas Panhandle, she didn’t put up with trouble from anyone. When I was in the second grade, Melanie, a new classmate moved in, calling me names and monopolizing my best friend’s attention.
I was complaining about Melanie one evening while my grandmother was frying potatoes. As I ranted, Mimi set her spatula down and raked her fingers through her short gray hair in frustration.
“You need to fix it so that Melanie leaves you alone once and for all,” she said. “Now come stand in front of me.”
Even in the second grade, I was almost as tall as my five-foot Mimi. She stood close to me and nudged one of her feet behind my heels. Mimi then explained how to gently push Melanie backwards so that she would trip over my feet and fall.
“That’ll teach her a lesson,” Mimi said, returning to the stove. “Girls can’t be trusted so you’re gonna have to take care of it yourself.”
I assured Mimi I would put an end to it. The next day, during recess, Melanie came up to me, taunting that she and my so-called best friend were having a sleep over on Friday. I was not invited.
“So what?” I retorted. And marched away. I was scared to fight Melanie and I didn’t want to get in trouble with the teachers.
The recess events swarmed my thoughts the rest of the day; Mimi was ready for me to end this situation. I knew she was tired of hearing me complain, too. By the time the final bell rang to end the school day, I was prepared.
“I did what you told me to, Mimi!” I said, jumping into her silvery-blue Thunderbird.
“And what did Melanie do?”
“Nothing,” I mumbled, unprepared for the question. “She left me alone.”
Ashamed that I wasn’t brave enough to follow Mimi’s instructions, I was careful to never mention Melanie’s name at home again. It helped me avoid her at school, too, so there wouldn’t be any stories about Melanie burning the tip of my tongue.
Lucky for me, Melanie moved away a short time later. She was my first experience with a “mean girl,” but she wouldn’t be my last.
