I am in Grade Three.
It's Hot Dog Day. I know this because I'm staring in disbelief at the red-headed lunch monitor sent to us from the Grade-Six class. She had dumped the entire contents of a bag of chips onto a paper napkin. She dips each chip into the largest puddle of ketchup I have ever seen before shoveling it into her mouth.
I wonder why this disgusts me. I put ketchup on french fries and fried potatoes. This just seems.... wrong.
Suddenly, an idea pops into her head.
Monitor: Who here still believes in Santa? Put up your hands.
I thrust my hand in the air. Of course I believe in Santa Clause! Toys! Chimneys! Reindeer! Flying reindeer!
A giggle ripples around the classroom. I look around and see mine is the only hand in the air, save for the keen, waving hands held aloft by the two Old Colony Mennonite students who just moved from Mexico and probably don't understand the question.
The giggles turn to laughter. Everyone is looking at me.
Monitor: Don't laugh, you guys. I think it's sweet they still believe.
She hoists another dripping chip into her mouth and crunches down.