Nature Vs Nurture

• Katie Mcquaid, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2008

Miss Peacock turned to stare at me again. “As I was saying, ladies never, under any circumstances, pick their noses and if this is any way unclear Miss Donald you can leave my class this instant.” I didn’t move. She finally turned her glare away from my face to prepare the cutlery for our next lesson. I pulled a face that brought my class to hysterics. Ms Peacock turned in time to catch it though. I felt my face drop. This is going to mean trouble. I’ve been sent out twice already this week, for ‘unlady like behaviour.’ SNOBS! I don’t want to be one of them.

Ms Peacock strutted her way towards me stopping inches away, her over-sized belly staring me in the face and her over powering perfume hitting me twice over. She grabbed me by the wrist with surprising force. She partly strutted, partly stamped her way to the secretary’s office. That’s when she slipped on a magazine I had left on the floor before class. She fell, nearly taking me with her. She let out a small scream before getting the air knocked out of her when she hit the floor. I shook myself free and sprinted down the stairs.

I wish my mum hadn’t dressed me like this. It just makes it harder for me to run away. I pulled the heels off and threw them in the ditch beside the pathway. I should have brought my skateboard. By the time I got home I had managed to compose my face enough for mum to believe the class had just finished early. I opened the door and crept in, peeking around to see if anyone was in the kitchen. It was empty, so I went to the cupboard to grab a snack.


I heard a chair being pulled out in the dining room and I knew I was sprung. I put on my best puppy-dog face and turned around. It was mum but she hadn’t noticed me. She was sitting at the table in her baby-pink Kaftan, looking through some flower arranging magazines. That’s when I saw something I thought I never would. She picked her nose and wiped her finger on the table cloth!
WELL, YOU CAN’T COMPETE WITH GENES!