Aunt Florence was a pistol from a young age, and she hated school. She seems to have taken a dislike to it early on and found more and more reasons to dislike it.
Her mother would drive her and drop her off at school, and Florence would be sitting on the back porch before she got back home.
The servant would spot her and open the door, “Now, Miss Florence, I’ll have to tell your mother when she gets back.”
Florence would shrug.
“Shall I get you some coffee before I tell her?”
“Yes, please.” Florence would say. She would have her coffee and then be taken back to kindergarten.
One day she came home after school and announced, “I am never going to school again!”
“Why not?” her mother asked.
“They make fun of me.”
“What do they make fun of you about?”
“The teacher asked our birthdays, and mine is on Groundhog’s Day.”
Her mother shook her head, “Tell them it’s on Candlemas Day.”
Florence looked a bit defiant, but the next day, she went off to school.
That day she came home from school grumpier and madder than ever.
“I told them what you said, and they laughed and made fun of me even more. I am not going back!” Florence insisted.
Before her mother could get to the bottom of what had happened this time, the phone rang.
“Hello, this is Florence’s teacher. Could you tell me when her birthday is?”
“February Second.”
“Oh,” the teacher said, “she said something today, and I was unfamiliar with the particular holiday.”
“You’ve never heard of Candlemas?” my grandmother asked.
There was a momentary pause, “Oh! Candlemas! That’s not what Florence said. She said she was born on Cow Mess Day.”
So, happy Candlemas, Groundhog’s Day, Cow Mess Day, or whatever you may celebrate.
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