— me, to the students, after I read the title of this next chapter in our read aloud. 

  
Two of them laughed. The rest stared blankly. 

People who don’t understand sarcasm are my very favorite! 

(Part of the Ebola Mom series)

Tutoring Ebola Mom’s kid… 

Me (to kid, whose eyes are bloodshot, with a runny nose): “You feeling ok?” 

Kid: “Yeah I just have allergies. I’m allergic to dust and pollen.” 

Me: “Ugh I’m sorry. Do you take medication?” 

Kid: “No. My mom just tells me not to go near stuff I’m allergic to.”

Me: “She tells you not to go near dust and pollen?”

Kid: “Yeah.”

Me: “That sounds hard to do.”

Kid (sneezing, rubbing eyes): “It is.”

Yeah. Sounds like classic Ebola mom advice. 

Better break out those gloves. 

Mother’s Day means getting together with your friends whose moms live out of state, and honoring them by toasting homemade Bloody Marys and getting drunk before noon. 

Because that’s what our moms would have wanted.

Also because we are not moms. So we can. 

(Part of the Ebola Mom series)

I feel like there was a nicer way to say this. I’m a teacher who works closely with your young child, not a cleaning service. Or your cat walker.