Last week when I was nannying, I read part of the children’s novel Ramona the Brave by Beverly Cleary. I found the book to be sweet, spirited, and funny. She reminded a little of myself when I was younger. In one scene, Ramona’s class is making paper bag owls for back to school night. She sees her nemesis, Susan, copying her owl. The teacher, Mrs. Griggs, sees Susan’s owl, and shows it off to the class, which makes Ramona mad. As a result, Ramona’s destroys both her owl and her nemesis’s owl. She is then forced to apologize to Susan in front of the class.
This scene was poignant to me because I had a similar experience when I was younger. In kindergarten, a classmate of mine made me mad ( I don’t remember what she did, it was a long time ago) and I tried to pour orange juice on her. Fortunately, my mother got mad and stopped me. I remember juice spilling on my arm and feeling irritated that I got stopped.
Similarly to Ramona, if someone made me angry, they would hear of my wrath. I’m not as wrathful as before, but it’s still there.
See page for author [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons