Snackcakes

When I was in 2nd grade, my best friend's name was Penney. Penney Fontenont (pronounced Fon-ten-oh). She was nice to me on my first day of school in Texas--she didn't make fun of my Michigan accent, she didn't think I was weird when I didn't know what a "Frito pie" was, and she liked my Granimals outfits. Plus, she was a good foot taller than me, so if needed, she could defend me. I was a tiny kid--I wore a size 5/6 in 2nd grade. How do I remember this? Because while all the other kids were shopping in the "big kids" section, I was still wearing the aforementioned Granimals. No one in the second grade wore Granimals, except for me. The midget. The wee, red-headed lassie. That didn't know what Frito pie was.

Anyways, Penney took me under her wing. She was my first "best friend" ever. We played chinese jumprope during recess, hung from the monkey bars, and would sit in the shade, playing "Bo-bo skitty wotten totten." Penney was cool because she got an allowance, which was a completely foreign concept to me. I had to clean my room, and pick up the house every day, but I didn't get paid for it.

Each week, after "allowance day," Penney and I would walk up to the "AppleTree" grocery store and buy a box of Starcrunches and a box of Twinkies. On the way home, we'd stop at a bench on the greenbelt, and eat BOTH boxes. Families would be riding their bikes by, and glance at us--2 little girls, covered in twinkie-filling and chocolate.

Crazy.