Confession

My friend Erin and I were just talking about elementary school and various events that occurred. She was talking about "Book It" (a reading program that rewarded kids with pizza for reading) which I had no idea about. And let's be honest, if there was a reward of food for reading, I would have found a way to win it. Which brings me to my confession...

Long ago, in my fifth grade classroom, my teacher, Mrs. Balls (seriously) decided to have a contest. She had 10 candy bars that were made into 10 separate drawings. In order to get a raffle ticket with your name on it, you had to be EXTRA good. These tickets were made only by Mrs. Balls out of "special paper" for you to write your name on it. I desperately wanted to win won, so I strategically picked out ONE candy bar that I would put all of my raffle tickets in AND I chose the one that the least amount of people would want: Mr. Goodbar. Sure, I wanted the Reeses' Pieces, Peanut Butter Cups, M&Ms and the like, but I didn't want to risk it. Many other kids couldn't believe I wasn't going to spread out my chances of winning more than one candy bar, but I knew my best bet was Mr. Goodbar.

Time went on and other people started to put their tickets in my Mr. Goodbar raffle. I became worried. I was always getting a fair amount of tickets for being 'good', but so were other students. "Why are giving so my tickets away, Mrs. Balls? Surely not EVERYONE was being 'extra good!'" I often thought. So I decided to take matters into my own hands. After all, if Mrs. Balls could give away these raffle tickets like they didn't have to be earned, I could too.

One day, I caught Mrs. Balls making these "special" raffle tickets. They weren't REAL tickets, I realized, they were just stupid pieces of paper--construction paper! That's not special! So that night, I went home and looked around. Ah HA! Construction paper! I examined it and noticed it was EXACTLY the same colors as Mrs. Balls' "special paper" and began cutting up pieces in the same manner and casually started writing my names on them.

The last week of the raffle was approaching so I knew I had to be careful. After all, getting caught stuffing a ballot box for a candy bar would be humiliating. So whenever Mrs. Balls gave me a raffle ticket, I layered a few with it and stuck it in the box.

Anticipation built over the next few days. The other kids at my "quad of desks" (remember that?) knew I wanted Mr. Goodbar so badly. They wouldn't dare put tickets in that raffle box. Finally, the drawing day came. Would my strategy pay off? Would Mrs. Balls notice that there is an abnormal amount of Erika tickets in the box? Would I feel guilty if I won? Would karma bite me for being so dishonest? These were the questions that raced through my mind.

Did I win? Of course I did. Even Karma can't beat the probability of over-stuffing a raffle box with homemade tickets. Did I enjoy the candy bar? Who wouldn't? Did I feel guilty? Of course. In fact, to this day, every time I eat a mini Mr. Goodbar on Halloween, I can't help but think that it should probably be named Mr. Badbar.