My mother loves to the tell the story about how I was potty trained. I drank from a bottle but could read. I slept in my crib but could speak in full sentences.

You acted like an adult, she told me, it's just that you didn't see any sense in giving up your diaper.

She tried reasoning with me. She tried pleading with me. She tried bribing me.

Nothing worked.

Until one day, she was struck by an idea.

She gave me a book and sent me into the bathroom.

I never wore a diaper again.

This is probably when SlackMom recognized that she had a geek in the making, although I was too young to tell. I know that I always felt awkward around the other kids, never quite fitting in anywhere. Girls teased me because I played baseball with the boys; the boys didn't exactly know what to do with a girl on their team. I wanted to marry Han Solo when everyone else wanted to be Mrs. Skywalker. I wanted my Barbies to dress like paladins and her horse Forever Tawny (way to go with the porn names, Mattel!) to be a creature out of the Fiend Folio. To get us outside in the summer months, SlackDad would bribe me and my brother with comic books for every few laps swam in my cousins' pool.

But I didn't realize I was a full-blown nerd until the 7th grade.

I was in Mrs. Bogen's class, in the "advanced" reading group (we didn't have English, we had "Reading" and "Language Arts" in middle school.) Each quarter, we were expected to read a bunch of books on our own and write mini-book reports on notecards. It wasn't difficult, especially when Mrs. Bogen set the grading rules before we started. Eleven books and above was an "A." There were 13-14 weeks in a quarter. This was a snap.

I think it was Britten Trimmer, although it was nearly 25 (urp!) years ago so I could be wrong. Britten saw that each quarter I read progressively more books...first 11, then 13, then 16.

I bet you can't read 50 books, he told me.

Let's make it interesting, I responded.

Okay, I didn't say let's make it interesting like some pubescent Fast Eddie with a bad perm, thick 80's eyebrows and and frosted lip gloss, but we did place the wager of a dollar. One whole dollar.

I set about my task, which to be honest, wasn't all that difficult. It ended up being about four books a week, which was easily manageable. Each Friday, I'd write up my notecards and file them in the box under my name. As the weeks progressed, the box grew more and more stuffed until Mrs. Bogen finally gave me my own separate file.

I read 53 books that quarter.

As Britten admitted defeat and handed me my dollar, I basked in victory, and in the adoration of my peers. That's why they were staring at me, right?

I looked at the chalkboard.

A = 26-53 books
B= 11-25 books

I blew the curve. For a dollar.

That's when I realized I was, without a doubt, a geek.

Now it's time for your coming-out stories!

And to make it interesting, we're going to make it a contest.