Dickhead Number 7

Contains a lot of swearing…

My ‘good OCD numbers’,
When I was younger,
Were 4 and 1,

The bad numbers,
Were 7 and 2;

Or was it 4 and 2 and 7 and 1? 😅;

No, pretty sure I got it right the first time around,
Because I remember repeating to myself–
“One, one, one, one, one, one, one…”
In order to cleanse myself,
From a distressing experience;

Why was 7 so hated?
Because in year 5 I forgot to hand in the consent form which my parents had signed,
To allow me to go on a week-long school trip;

I discovered the slip, to my horror,
In my classroom tray some weeks later…
So I walked sheepishly into the classroom of the organising teacher,
Who told me, in that mock-disappointed (sociopathic) teacher’s voice,
“Oh…
Oh… Robin…
Oh it’s too late now!
The deadline was weeks ago!
Little boys who are this disorganised deserve to be euthanised“,
Or some shit like that;

Shit was fucking traumatising!
I stood there in the middle of a class of year 3s fucking crying 😆;

So I didn’t get to go,
And had to spend the week sitting in on other years’ classes,
Whilst my classmates were having the week off and having fun… 😭😭😭;

Shit was fucking traumatising!
It really makes me laugh now, though, don’t worry,
And a year later I made it onto the next trip in year 6!

Anyways, so it occurred to me,
That those kids in year 3 who saw my year 5 self breaking down in tears,
Would’ve been around age 7…
The little shits!
Oh, the horrors!
And thus was born my years-long hatred,
Of the number fucking 7! 🤷‍♂️

🌪