Monday, August 27, 2007

Ahh, the Smell of Prepubescent Love

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.

No comments: