Firebug | Fireman Sam

The First Day of School

"Are your eyes real?"
"Your eyes are so pretty!"
Comments and questions along these lines are the farthest thing from uncommon when people meet me for the first time. I don't mind them, because they're normally meant in a curious and complimentary manner.
   So, what's the deal with my eyes? I'm sure you're wondering.
   In reality, it's nothing too huge. My eyes are green, like I have previously stated. Nothing too unusual there, right? Of course not! Green eyes are rare but not impossible. Sometimes people who have something to say about them have green eyes themselves! The difference is how bright they are. I won't describe them as emerald green, because emeralds are a bit darker. They're more like peridots.
My father has green eyes, my mother has brown. So it was fairly likely that I would have green eyes as well.
   It wasn't my first day of school, per say. I had been in nursery, and this was my first day in a Primary School. I was in reception. My class consisted of twenty three students. It was one class per year group. I had also joined a bit later than the other students. They had all joined in September, I was just at the beginning of October.
   This brings me back to the start of this chapter.
   When I walked through the gates for the first time, I saw my new classmates, most of whom would remain my classmates up until we parted ways for Secondary. One girl approached me. She had red hair and brown eyes, and freckles dotted all over her face.
   Especially as young children when you meet someone who has a unique feature or two, there is no such thing as a simple "Hello" or "Good morning". Because they don't really know much better, they jump straight into asking what they want to know. Also, for the record, I didn't understand what she said at first. My parents could speak Welsh, so Welsh was my first language, not English. I got taken out of lessons a lot to work on my English, which I didn't like. Can you imagine speaking your own language in your own country, but having to learn a different language and use it as your main? The only primary school in Pontypandy was English speaking. The Welsh speaking schools were further away. My nursery was Welsh speaking.
   "They look too bright to be real," She told me bluntly.
   I raised an eyebrow, not knowing what she said. Even if I knew, I would have been quite confused, because how was I supposed to know what 'they' are? She pointed at my eyes, but I was still confused. Yes, I have eyes.
   She scurried off to the entrance to our classroom, not wanting to press on any further. I could tell she was a bit suspicious of me though. I wasn't sure what to do. What did she say, and how was I supposed to know?
   I went back to my mother and father, who had dropped me off for the first day. I gave them each a hug. I didn't utter a word about the interaction I just had with that girl, because I was confused but otherwise didn't care. The only reason it has stuck with me until today is because it was actually quite funny, now that I know what she was saying.
  "Have a good first day, Bronnie," Said my father.
   Bronnie is the special little nickname my father has for me. He still calls me Bronnie to this day. He called me it so often that supposedly it's what he addresses me as to other people when I'm not even there. Most people's parents call them by their full name when they are in trouble. For my father, it was when he called me Bronwyn instead of Bronnie. If I did something really bad, then it was my full name, but that must have happened about two times ever. I think dad has only casually called me Bronwyn when he and my mother were deciding what to name me, because I genuinely don't remember a single time where he called me Bronwyn in just a day-to-day conversation with me, or probably anyone for that matter. I got nicknamed so often that sometimes we both would forget that my name was Bronwyn.
   "We'll miss you so," My mother added, "You've grown up so quickly!"
   They both gave me one more fat kiss each, before they waited for my aunt and uncle to walk over with Liam. My father and his brother, so my uncle Ifan, decided it would be a wonderful idea to have me and Liam as close as possible, which meant that we were sent to the same primary school.
   Liam and I walked in together. Both of us were nervous, as we had already grasped the fact that the rest of the students had gotten used to one another, and were starting to build little friendship circles. Liam was the first of us to come to that realisation, then he shared that newfound knowledge with me. I thought for a bit, then told him that it wouldn't matter, because we already had each other. We had a best friend since we were born, and that is all we needed.
   It was very sweet, but I couldn't shake off the fact that I was still quite nervous. It comforted us both but didn't really change that there were twenty one other students who had never seen us before, and that we also couldn't understand. Apart from that cheeky redhead, but I didn't really know her, she said something bluntly that I couldn't make any sense of. Her name was Elizabeth.
   "Hello! You must be Bronwyn and Liam," The teacher greeted us, "I'm Miss Bowen. I shall be your teacher for this year."
And that's honestly about as far as my memory goes regarding the school day apart from having no idea what anyone was saying for a few months. Even if it was the first, or mine and Liam's first anyway, the routine we had was practically the same for every day. It's just a normal thing and you can't really pick it out of the bunch. With that said, I don't remember anything from that academic year. Nothing sticks out, and you would be lucky to remember a full repetitive routine from twenty eight years ago, which I do not. I barely remember Miss Bowen. She was mostly nice, but occasionally strict when someone was way out of order. I have a small memory of what her perfume smelt like. She had hazel eyes (I wasn't very good at eye contact growing up, so my mother made me look into people's eyes whenever they spoke to me. The fun thing about it is that I got to see all different eye colours. I'm still very observant of eye colours, which is a little creepy now that I'm thinking about it.)
   We also had this teacher who came in once a week to read to us. I don't remember what her name was. It was called silent reading. When I tell you this, I'm not joking, but I once got told off for coughing during it. I don't understand those kind of really strict Primary teachers, especially ones who teach reception. I'm a mum, kids can be annoying, sometimes they need to be put in line. I know. But coughing is seriously one of the smallest offences a child can do. I was even covering my mouth!
   Another recurring thing was teachers asking me to speak up. "There's no need to be shy!" "Speak louder!" "Stop mumbling!". I think it was those exact comments that pushed me into actually being shy.

I rushed out of the school, having already spotted my father. I jumped up and wrapped my arms around him as he caught me.
   "Hello, Bronnie!" He beamed, "How was your first day at school?"
   "It was brilliant!" I told him, "Liam and I had lots of fun playing together! We met loads of new people!"
   "How wonderful!" He gave me a kiss.
   I looked around, noticing the absence of my mother.
   "Dad, where is mum?" I asked,
   "She had a quick order to take care of," He told me,
   I nodded. It was a pity, but I could see her again when I got home and greet her with the same excitement I showed dad.
   I walked home with a bit of a skip in my steps and a grin on my face. I was very chirpy.
   When I got through the front door, I ran through to the kitchen and hugged mum from behind.
   "Oh, gracious!" She exclaimed, "Hello, Bronwyn!"
   "Hi, mum!" I cheered. Mum leaned down and kissed me.
   "How was your first day at Primary school?" She inquired as she picked me up,
   "It was really good!"
   "How lovely! Get up to anything exciting?"
   "We did crafts!"
   I was on cloud nine. I went to bed squirming with excitement because of how eager I was to return to school the next day. What can I say? Reception must have been a pretty exciting time.