A few slaps on the wrist

The first time that I ever got in trouble in a classroom was when I stabbed my best friend Danielle in kindergarten. From what I remember, Mrs. Bradshaw scolded me and I remember crying into her chest, knowing that I did a bad thing. The second time that I remember getting in trouble was when I wrote "bad words" on a note and my teacher from sixth grade got a hold of it. She sent it to my mother that same day (or called her, I don't remember, but I do know that she got the message) and I cried then too. There was another time when I was in high school, and my English teacher caught me passing notes. From what my friends tell me, I turned a bright shade of red that would make roses jealous. Now, in my senior year of college, I got in trouble again. But only this time I didn't cry, or turn red, or displayed any type of emotion. I honestly didn't care. Therefore I answered that I honestly didn't know. It made me realize that as you get older, nothing really matters when it comes to getting into trouble. They won't do anything to harm you. It's just a slap on the wrist. Trust me, the redness will fade.