My first memory of hating the team approach was in first grade. I had the role of one of the pigs in The Three Little Pigs. My group was supposed to color our house on a huge piece of paper. A kid on my team, Michael, could not color to save his life. It was so irritating watching him color back and forth and up and down. I guess my intolerance for this was evident because my teacher pulled me from the group and made me the narrator. I learned a valuable lesson that day. Be a bad team player and get a promotion. I went from some little pig on a team to a big shot narrator!
I remember one time my mom picked Michael up from school to come to our house. On the way home, I pulled a scab off of his face. I did this because a) it was ready to come off and b) he was whining about it too much. He cried. When we got home, my mom sent me to my room. Later, Michael told me I could still have the cookie he brought me. My mom told him I couldn't have the cookie; I'm pretty sure even she thought he needed to grow a pair at this point.
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