There's A Schwa In It

I'd like to share a fond childhood memory with anyone who cares. It was 5th grade science class, and all the students were taking turns reading aloud from the textbook. The kid behind me - who I'm sure grew up to be a very intelligent man so I will refrain from naming names - was taking his turn. He came across what I thought was a simple word and got stuck. "Gal. Gal. Gal." He kept saying. Finally the impatient teacher - lazy-eyed Ms. Thomas (I'll use her name because I don't give a damn about protecting her, that's if she's still even alive) said, "There's a schwa in it." Finally the kid blurted out enthusiastically, "Galaxschwazee!" Needless to say the teacher really lost her cool...except with me. This was, of course, after I turned and exclaimed, "What! Are you dumb? Galaxy!" Now I swear I wasn't a bad kid or a bully. Cross my heart. I was just rather impulsive, and saying that I talked a lot is an understatement. I mean, I talked A LOT, and I often said what's what. Honestly, I got good grades and was well liked by most teachers, but I often found myself sitting in the back of the classrooms, facing corners, twiddling thumbs in supply closets, or simply hanging out in the hallway more often than I'd like to admit because of those damn flappin' gums. For the record though I felt badly afterwards. I think.