As I’m leaving an hour-long tutoring session…
Kid (to her mom): “Mom, you always say I have to take those off (points to nape of my neck) but Miss Emily didn’t!!”
Me (confused): “Wait, what?”
Parent: “Something tells me Miss Emily did not know it was there. And I was going to try to let her leave without embarrassing her, but I guess that’s not happening now.” (opens drawer, grabs scissors, cuts this off my sweater and hands it to me):
“What are Spanx!?”
— 2nd grade boy, when I opened up my laptop to do a reading program with him and a HUGE photo of my latest online shopping purchase popped up.
Fair. And true.
But this is exactly the kind of hazardous situation I find myself in when I linger in society past sundown– two young people were having a perfectly lovely first date and I interrupted it, arms flailing, screaming, “Little Michael?!?! Is that YOU?!?!?”
Zero chance he got laid after that.
I’m never leaving the couch again.
Sorry, Little Michael.
(For interrupting your date. And for calling you “Little Michael.” Last night and in this post. Also, sorry about this post).