March

Abby completed her first diorama. As the mother of a child who has completed her first diorama, I now apologize to the mothers of my previous students who were assigned a diorama.

I worked hard cleaning the girls' rooms. I changed the sheets, put away their laundry, and picked up the floor. I was very proud of myself, but with Mike out of town, I had no one to appreciate the beauty of the rooms. I emailed him, and he responded that I should take pictures and send them to him so he could applaud me. I waited two hours before taking the pictures. My mistake. In those two hours, two things happened.
1. I fell asleep.
2. The girls got a hold of a roll of tape and a roll of toilet paper.


I sent the pictures to Mike. His response was, "Wow. You must have worked so hard."

The girls get their hair done:

Abby was in her first school play this month. She was a bunny who raked leaves. Gamma and Papa made her an adorable outfit after hearing me whine about it one too many times. When the performance night came, Mike came home from work with a sheepish look. He had left our camera at school. At the last minute, we also decided not to take our video camera, since we always get stuck in the back with no clear shot. Sure enough, we were behind at least 100 people, so I took Hannah and sat on the floor right in front of the stage. When the curtains opened, we had a perfect sight line to our bunny. (I was kicking myself for the not bringing the camcorder!) Abby spotted Hannah and I right away and couldn’t stop staring at us with a huge grin on her face. At one point, she mouthed slowly and deliberately, “This is my favorite soooonnnngggg.” She did an amazing job.

I teach at a local community college. One night, a quote from Robert Redford fit into my lecture material. I showed a picture of Redford, made a comment about him being easy on the eyes (the picture was taken when he was in his 40s), and read the quote. One of my male students said, “You think he’s cute?” I replied enthusiastically, but the student was not impressed and pointed out several features that he thought were unattractive. As I moved on with the lecture, another student leaned and whispered something into his ear. His eyes grew wide, and his hand went up. When I called on him, he said, “”Ma’am, if that’s your husband, I’m really sorry I said that about him.”
He’d never heard of Robert Redford. I feel so old.