I hated preschool. I understand why my mother sent me. After all, my younger sister deserved some only child time, just as I'd had it when my older sister went to preschool, but it was one of my earliest lessons that most grown ups are illogical tyrants. What I remember most was that they used to make me sit on the back steps as punishment for crying. At the time I had an undiagnosed allergy to caffeine, which would make me sob uncontrollably. I don't know why the teachers thought I was crying on purpose. They'd tell me I could come back to the group when I stopped and I'd wail that I couldn't stop, I didn't know how. They also used to force me to eat their disgusting snacks like celery sticks with peanut butter and raisins. The celery made my nose burn. I suspect this is also probably an allergy, but I've never ate the stuff since. Once they insisted I eat this vile cheap frozen pizza despite how much I protested. So puked it up all over one of them. Serves her right.