It was nearing the end of the year. The children were hot and tired. One boy came up to my desk and said, "It's ok if you don't like my writing today."
I looked down at his paper and saw that he had barely written anything. I said, "Honey, you should never be happy with medeocre."
His eyebrows came together and he asked, "Is that the pudding old people eat?"
Friday, June 8, 2007
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