The boys had their end-of-year awards program at school today. Half of their teachers were little girls playing dress-up.
No, not really, but that’s how it felt. I’m now old enough that a teacher just out of school, or even one with a few years’ experience, is young enough to be my daughter.
When I think back to my school days, yeah, I had some young teachers, but I don’t think this many. I don’t know whether I’m getting a skewed view at the boys’ school, or if the profession really has a much younger average age now. Whatever the case, wow.
Between this and my budding disgust with Coach Saban at his apparent intention to keep Cam Robinson on the team under any circumstance except sustained incarceration…sheesh. (Does that feel old-fashioned or is it me?) If my doctor tells me next time I see her that I can’t have spicy food anymore, I’m just going to get a hat with ear flaps and start eating at Piccadilly every day and be done with it.
Have a good weekend. You whippersnappers.