Today, after having lunch with Miles at school, I reluctantly agreed to go out onto the school playground with him. Going out onto the school playground is a sweet idea in theory, and especially to those who have never been before themselves. The reality is that I will be swing pushing, listening to, sat on and dragged by the arm by not one, two or five kids. It means that I will be Grand Poobah Push-Master Supreme, Tiny-Tot Therapist, Sitting Cushion Numero Uno and Mrs. Here-Come-With-Me, not to just one class full of youngins, but five classes. Five classes multiplied by 20 kids equals 100 children. Do you feel me now?
And for the record, I was cute when I left the house ... now, about an hour or so later, I am not anywhere near cute.
(Jim's exact comment when I walked past him after I got home ... "You smell like a little wet puppy.")
Nice.
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