So I was writing a thank you note for my grandmother. I was like “Thank you for the gift, Grandma” and my dad was like “Oh, [Kurdt], you have to put a dot after the end of a sentence. It’s called a period.”
I was like, “OK”. And then he goes, “Oh, without the period, the word flow is endless.” And I was like “TMI, damn it, TMI!” I think he scarred me. It wasn’t that painful, thankfully.
My first period was English Lit I with Mrs. Bovelle.
How old were you? :dubious:
5…4…3…
Thanks for the contribution, fella.
7 up- I was 5.
>sniff< The memories…
Why would you find that scarring at the age of five?
First day of seventh grade. Our home room teacher told us that we’d have to go to the first class listed on our schedule every school day for about 50 minutes. This was known as our first period. We could go home after our sixth period. I was 13 years old and didn’t feel particularly scarred.
I think it was Science.
There are many full-stops (Aussie-speak for period) and many lessons (Aussie-speak for class durations/periods) throughout our childhood… I couldn’t simply remember my first of either. Besides, what’s so life-enthralling about it anyway? 
Well, at first it didn’t go so well. . .
. . . but later on (about twelve minutes into it) I was able to hop off the bench and pick up a loose puck along the side of the boards before it cleared the zone. I had to dink it off the boards to get around a defenseman, but I did rip off a shot before I got too deep in the zone.
Whaaaat? What’s that look for?
Oh. OH! :eek:
Tripler
Serves me right for waking up at 4:30 AM.