Just a little catch up, then a funny story, and then a follow-up to last Thursday's post.
Speaking of last Thursday . . .
. . . the last time I wrote. Anything.
I managed to make it through the day, but then woke up on Friday feeling like stinky cheese. Still, I walked the dog, took a shower, carefully applied my make up, dried my hair, and got dressed in my favorite jeans and top. I did all this to trick myself into not feeling like stinky cheese.
And then I did some errands. I even made homemade Honey Whole Wheat Bread and chili for supper on Friday. All in an effort to trick myself into thinking I was really healthy.
I was not.
I felt like stinky cheese.
And so, Fabulous Friday Food did not happen last week. I'm sure nobody missed it.
And not much happened on Saturday at all, except, of course, my weekly trip to the French Market. But aside from that, B and I scrapped our plans to go out to dinner because, well, I still felt like stinky cheese.
But I'm back!
Monday has dawned, and a very busy week is ahead of me. I am so excited about this week!! Want to know why?
Because I'm officially feeling old, that's why. No, not really, but all of the students over on the Wheaton College campus will think I'm old, along with about 200 of my classmates this weekend when we celebrate our 25th class reunion.
I totally remember being a student there, watching all the "old" people in their tweed jackets and nice clothes (well, compared to mine) heading into the football game. I remember feeling kind of sorry for them that their lives were almost over and their kids were grown up and in college now. And I remember thinking "Who wears a tweed jacket to a football game anyway?"
Well, I'm there now. I will don my nicer jeans for the game on Saturday and B will probably wear a tweed jacket (just kidding! We're not really the tweedy type.). But I know all the students (my own daughter included) will probably be looking at us, feeling sorry that our lives are just about over.
Little did I know then . . . and little do they know now . . . .
I have four friends staying with me next weekend, and I cannot wait for the reunion! We are going to have so much fun remembering crazy times, visiting our old dorm rooms (we have an "in" on our freshman floor), and wondering who all those fat, old, bald men are.
Jen is bringing her daughter (yes, you are!), but last week she threatened to make her stay home because of grades or something silly like that. Seriously? Grades? Who cares?
I guess her mom does.
Anyway, all of my girls have known Jen's kids for years now, and they love E like a sister. So when I told Maggie and Abby that there was a slim possibility that their friend might not make it to Homecoming, they were rightfully bummed.
And all because of a possible punishment.
So Maggie turns this over in her mind and finally says to me, "So, staying at our house is a privilege?"
Yeah, Maggie. Who knew?
So you're wondering what I said to Clueless Ray, aren't you?
"So what if I just don't agree with you?" he had the audacity to say to me after I spent 30 minutes walking through his terrible paper with him.
Well, after about 10 seconds and picking my chin up off the floor (honestly, I had never had a student talk to me like that before), I pretty much stammered out the words "Well . . . I'm the teacher."
That's right. All I could think of to say to this kid was "I'm the teacher." Kind of like the thousand times I had said to my own kids, "Because I'm the Mom, that's why!"
And then I followed up by telling Ray that he had two choices. He could either rewrite the paper, using the many (MANY!!) suggestions I had given him, or he could choose to do nothing and accept the D.
He took the D.