October 1st, 1959

 Get a move on
I’m not going, I don’t want to go
By hook or by crook you’ll go

And so, with me whining, my father took me to school with the only means he had: a black scooter that looked more like a bicycle.

We arrived in front of the school Tommaseo and with great pushes he took me in class.
But I already knew, I had already decided that I would not be in that room .
I continued to cry involving other children.
The teacher told my father to take me out until I had calmed down .
You’re ugly , the teacher is ugly and she even has mustaches , and I won’t stay here with her
And here the first resounding slap flew.

We went out of the classroom and met a man who was selling cheese .
If you want I’ll let you on my truck and you can honk the clacson .
No I will not because you’re fat.
Even the other cheek tasted the heavy hand of my father.
We crossed the street , a policeman came to meet us .

Why are you crying beautiful blond boy ? You can use my whistle, but tell me why are you crying ?
I’m crying because I do not want to go to school .
And why will not you go to school?
Because the teacher is ugly, fat and has a moustache .

Ohh… but who is she who scares you so much, what is the name of  your teacher ?
I told him the name ……… E …… P …….. F …….

She was his wife !
It arrived immediately on the third slap , and my father never ceased to apologize to the policeman.
So I began my school life …. the day after !

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