This may be a total shocker to some of you, but in third grade I was not the cool girl. Definitely not the cool girl. But I also wasn’t the weird girl, the girl that smelled nor the girl that was super jockey and athletic. I was just way normal. Like really normal. Too normal for my own good. So I’m pretty sure I just kinda faded into the background… The cool girls were the sprightly blond ones. Their hairs were always French braided. They wore a lot of pink. They were talkative and outgoing. The boys liked to punch them, in a good way (I think). And they had awesome packed lunches. (Read: Lunchables, Cheetos, Snack Packs.) I was like, the antithesis of the situation you just read. My dad thought it was a genius idea to buy me boys’ tennis shoes because he thought they were “designed” better. So yeah…I have him to thank for that. I was shy and quiet and observant. And my hair was frizzy and always sort of a mess. My mom, nor I, could French braid despite how many times we tried. And my lunch…ugh…my lunch was always kind of lame. Think like, …

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