This archived column says a lot about my feelings toward spelling bees. I hate them! But the bee talked about here was Robby’s. No matter, it made me cringe and remember my childhood.
My poor spelling might be connected to my dyslexia, I don’t know. I often slip up — as you might have seen in a past blog. But that doesn’t stop me from writing.
I wonder if any of my elementary school teachers noticed that I always went down in the third round of the class spelling bee. Even if I knew the word and how to spell it I would make a mistake. Then I could sit down and all tension was lifted. (Yes, I did that.)
It would be nice to be able to spell, but I’ve learned to live with my problem.
After all, misspelling a word isn’t the end of the warld.
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