refuse an eagle
ALL THE ONE-SYLLABLE BAND NAMES I CAN THINK OF (IN A TWO-MINUTE TIME LIMIT)
- Ween
- Blur
- Rush
- Seam
- KISS
- Cake
- Phish
- Lush
- Yes
- Slint
- All
- Hole
- Bread
- Spoon
- Ratt
- Squeeze
FEWER PENCILS, MANY MORE BOOKS, ZERO TEACHER’S DIRTY LOOKS
School is out! No more first grade. I volunteered for an hour or so at the end-of-year festival event, mostly taking children to the bathroom, including one who WAY overshared about the texture and solidity of his bathroom product, and that he had “got some on [his] finger” but “washed it off.” For fuck’s sake, random child! And no, I won’t hold your hand on the way back to the playground!
I rarely saw my own child during my volunteer hour, as the carnival games included one of those strongman things where you swing the hammer and ring the bell. Nora was very focused on ringing that bell and did this over and over. The best part was watching her take secret practice swings while standing in line.
So no school until September, which gives Nora a lot more time to focus on being a maniac. Exhibit A:
The best part is that it wasn’t. Not a thing wrong with my toilet, despite what Mr. Green Balloonhead is saying.
HEADDESK, FACEPALM, OTHER OVERUSED PHRASES OF EXASPERATION
I saw this on the blog of someone in the process of adopting internationally: Mom’s Without Boarders.
You know, I don’t really want to live in a fascist grammarian dictatorship where people have to grasp how the English language is used and punctuated before they are allowed to become parents. Except I kind of do. Maybe. Sometimes.
—mimi smartypants welcomes our grammatically correct overlords.