I was 14 and in my freshman year of high school. I'd been active with the Thespians (not to be confused with, or pronounced like, lesbian, MOM...) that year.
We had to do a skit in Drama to get a grade for one of the girls in our group, Liz. So we decided to be Kindergarten kids on our first day of school.
Mike and Colleen played The Twins (and what a set of twins they made...), Liz was The New Girl, and I was The Kid That Sat In The Corner and Barked At The Other Kids (I was a natural for this role, let me assure you.)
Before we went onstage, we had to figure out what my name would be. I was all for something random, so I decided on Edna. (Come on, you should have seen it coming...)
The four of us took our places onstage, with The Twins talking to The New Girl. Before long, The New Girl's nerves got to her - she had an "accident" and ran offstage crying for her mommy. (Hey, it happens.)
At this point the twins had long since decided to do the Demonstration of the Potty Dances (move over, macarena!), and I just kept on barking. They were discussing running to mommy, and how they were big kids. They NEVER ran to their mommy.
So I pulled a bat on them. It was a harmless red plastic thing, really not that big a deal as I saw it.
Or not.
The Twins ran offstage crying for their daddy.
We wound up taking this skit to the school variety show - and we just added to it. I got to throw Play-Doh and Crayolas at the grand curtain in Springstead Theater (and Mr. C DIDN'T have a coronary!).
There was this guy in the audience who ended up coming to my church not long after this little skit was performed for anyone that wanted to pay to see it - we had a couple of one-act plays, so there were actual people there.
Anyway, Andrew, the guy that came to church, could not for the LIFE of him remember my name. So he called me Edna.
The rest, as they say, is history.