I never got to eat my Pringles: Okay, so this was in fourth grade, and I was in this class with all these dumbass kids. Here’s the back story: My parents usually pack me fruit for a snack, but on this day they packed me like half of the leftover Pringles from the day before, you know, in that cylinder container. I was really excited since I LOVE PRINGLES. But when recess came around so I could take MY Pringles and go eat it outside, they weren’t in my bag. I started scoping the area, trying to find my Pringles. I call the teacher, she tries to find them but she can’t either. Than this thought comes to my mind—What if MOIRA STOLE IT? Moira was this chubby girl in my class that literally ALWAYS wore this purple princess dress that should be classified as a bad Halloween costume (seriously) and was known for being a bitch. Being the judgmental 9-10 year old I was, I straight out concluded that she must’ve stolen my damn Pringles. I just tell my teacher, “Well too bad, I’ll just go out for recess now. It was just PRINGLES.” Being a little angel. So I stomp out of the class and start searching for Moira. I’m talking checking areas, finding witnesses, wasting my time. So after a solid 10 minutes, I find a group of these kids crowded at the side of one of the portable classrooms. I rush over to see what it is. The kids were eating Pringles. Barbecue flavored Pringles. MY PRINGLES. I start raging as I smack the Pringles out of the kids’ hands and start ripping peo