OK, boys and girls. Since we've got no school today (river is half frozen, so we didn't have enough kids to call it a school day), and I'm feeling teacherly, I'm going to administer a pop quiz. Please study the picture below, and answer the question that follows.
In this photograph, Sara is barefoot and _________ in the kitchen.
a. a man
b. pregnant
c. picking her nose
d. not wearing underpants
If you chose option *b*, you are correct. Due May 1. Shaun wrote a very nice post all about our trip to Anchorage for my appointment. No ultrasound pic to show off, though; they were fresh out of paper for the printer.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Saturday, October 20, 2007
AbracaFABulous***
Now, I can usually spot concealed homosexuality in fiction and film with the best of them. In fact, I spot it where it doesn't even exist. My literary gay-dar, it seems, is on overdrive.
But I totally missed this one. I mean, jeez, I ONLY read that book how many times this summer?
I like that Dumbledore's gay. It makes sense. He certainly does have a sense of flair beyond that of your average hetero wizard.
***Shaun came up with the title for this post***
But I totally missed this one. I mean, jeez, I ONLY read that book how many times this summer?
I like that Dumbledore's gay. It makes sense. He certainly does have a sense of flair beyond that of your average hetero wizard.
***Shaun came up with the title for this post***
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Boob
When it rains it pours, apparently... at least when it comes to first graders saying inappropriate things in cute ways and me just not understanding their intent.
So, the other day, I was just doing my thing, being a teacher. Being educational, and stuff.
Suddenly, a little darling tugged on my shirt. "My boob hurts," she said, then just kind of wanders away without further comment.
I was more than a little dumbstruck.
"Student," I called, "come back here." She kind of bounced back towards me. In a private-conversation-voice, I asked her, "What did you say hurts?"
"My boob," she replied, as if I were asking her a very, very dumb question.
"Your... huh?"
She held up a grubby first grade forefinger. "My BOOB! My THIS KIND" she huffed, pointing to a small cut on aforementioned digit.
Comprehension at last. "Oh," I said, "your BOO-BOO?"
"Yeah. That's what our baby calls them. Boo-boos."
Better than boobs, I guess.
So, the other day, I was just doing my thing, being a teacher. Being educational, and stuff.
Suddenly, a little darling tugged on my shirt. "My boob hurts," she said, then just kind of wanders away without further comment.
I was more than a little dumbstruck.
"Student," I called, "come back here." She kind of bounced back towards me. In a private-conversation-voice, I asked her, "What did you say hurts?"
"My boob," she replied, as if I were asking her a very, very dumb question.
"Your... huh?"
She held up a grubby first grade forefinger. "My BOOB! My THIS KIND" she huffed, pointing to a small cut on aforementioned digit.
Comprehension at last. "Oh," I said, "your BOO-BOO?"
"Yeah. That's what our baby calls them. Boo-boos."
Better than boobs, I guess.
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