All my life, I’ve been the runt of the litter fighting for the table scraps. When I was just a boy of four years old, the schools and my mom had a choice whether or not to place me in kindergarten. I was a September child, so my birthday happened to fall in that rare window of time where they could have made me wait a year until next fall. But Sesame Street taught me well, and with my excitable boyish demeanor, I was able to recite not only my alphabet, but also count to ten…in Spanish. So they took me in, despite the fact I was developmentally behind most other kids in my grade by almost an entire year. I feel like since…