Woke to cool winds and gray skies this morning. Fall! My favorite season. Next to February, of course.
Last night, the kid and I stopped at the Harps on the way home from school. She's sitting in on my WLIT I night class this semester.
Wednesday is my long day at the university -- I'm there from seven in the morning until 8.30 at night, teaching all day, mostly, although I have a five hour stretch between my last afternoon class and the start of my evening class, which I use for prep and office hours. Yesterday, though, this got taken up by a lengthy and boring, ah, I mean extremely useful meeting. My, do I enjoy academic meetings. So useful. And so many things get done at them which can't be more efficiently done though e-mail!
Where was I?
Oh, yes. After a 14 hour workday, the kid and I stopped at Harps, so that there might be something to eat in the house for once, as well as to get something for dinner.
As we're rounding the dairy aisle, I said, "What about yeggs? Do we have any yeggs?"
"Yes," she said, in her best sarcastic voice, "we have EGGS, MOM."
"Okay," I said. "Don't get EGGS, then."
"Why do you always say that. Yeggs."
"Because it's what your dad always used to say. It's an old joke."
"Well, there's no Y on the word, you know."
"Jeez. Really? Thanks for pointing that out."
We rounded the corner to frozen food, and suddenly she laughed. "Ow!"
"What?" I said.
"Nothing. I just rolled my eyes so hard I think I sprained my eye muscles."
My kid, folks. Thirteen! She'll be here all year.
54 minutes ago
3 comments:
The kid's comment, BTW, after reading this post?
She rolled her eyes: "Mom. February is NOT a season."
I love this girl. She has wit and intelligence going for her big time. I loved the Hitler Haiku. What are her future plans?
Does she have any interest in a 55-year-old pen pal? I'm taking music theory I and Spanish I at the local community college. (I have a ton of college credits and a law degree.) Both classes are challenging, but the music theory class is seriously intense. I am growing very fond of my much-younger classmates. They work really hard and are kind of terrified. They are starting to notice the grandma (me!) in the room and ask me questions. I love this.
In any case . . .
Good job, L
L -- If you're serious, she would love a 55 year old pen pal. Her biggest complaint is that she doesn't have enough friends. Want her email address? Email me -- drdelagar@gmail.com
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