Teeny, tiny, 6th grade boy: "What's your boyfriend do, Miss J?"
Me:"He's an artist."
Boy: "Yeah? You should have him come here one time, and when he does, I'll beat him up and take you for my own!"
Boys in group: Erupt with frantic, red-faced laughter.
Oh, dear sweet violets.
Taken from one journal entry.
"Miss J, you are the best. I wish I could see you every day. Even on Saturday and Sundays. Those days are sad without you."
From another journal entry.
"Well, Miss J. You don't totally suck."
Ahh, young love.
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