In fourth grade, gifted classes across the state of Nebraska were to take a standardized test, with the promise of medals and governor commendations for the top scorers.
In fourth grade, this was my idea of heaven.
[cue: commentary on my incessant need for attention slash validation]
When the test results came in, I just so happened to be spending my recess inside, chatting it up with my teacher. Like all cool kids are wont to do.
She was delighted to find that two of her students had taken top honors on the exam.
I was more than delighted to run out to the playground to congratulate David on his second place ranking.
David, who also happened to be the resident Nebraska State Fair moo-ing champion, was not entirely appreciative of my earnest conveyance of laudatory things:
"You just wanted everyone to know that you got first place, didn’t you."
…
No, really, David. This is your moment.
Don’t touch my medal.