Familiar Faces
I used to take the youngest to school in the mornings. After I dropped him off, I would take a right and head to work…and almost every morning I would see the same lady out on her daily run/walk.

She became so familiar to me that I felt like we were friends–it didn’t matter that I didn’t know her name. I still knew her.

She was a heavy woman. The first morning I saw her, I wondered to myself how long she would keep it up. How many times had I started the same health routine only to give up a week or so later?

The second week, I found myself admiring her for her persistance.

The second month, I noticed a gradual change in her. She’d quickened her pace slightly. Her body shape had changed.

A few months later, she was running. Not a fast run–but it was definitely not walk.

By the end of the school year, she had lost quite a bit of weight and she was running with a little white dog. (though, she really needed a better bra to be running…those babies were having a party as she jogged)

Summer came, and I began to miss seeing her because I didn’t have to go that route to work. She had really become an inspriation to me–even though I hadn’t gotten off the couch yet.

I saw her in Wal-Mart the other day. She looks great. (she still needs a better bra…LOL) I bet she’s lost 80 lbs.

As many of you know, I started my health quest in January. I’ve been doing a pretty steady job of exercising 4-5 times a week and walking at night after work.

During my walks now, I’m starting to recognize the same cars. Folks I don’t know are waving at me because I am becoming familiar to them. Kind of weird the way life circles around sometimes.

Licking Nipples

I know, y’all want to know about the nipples part of this post.

Perverts.

Speaking of perverted, I got a call from my youngest (8 year old) son’s assistant Principal today.
AP: Mrs. Francis?

Me: Yes?

AP: Your son announced in class today that he can lick his nipples.

Me: cough, sputter, giggle Really? Hmmm. I’m sorry, why are you calling about this?

A.P: trying to stifle a laugh and doing a poor job of it. Because his art teacher has heard him mention nipples before and is tired of it. So she wrote him up.

Me: snicker I’m sorry. This isn’t funny–well, yes it is. I’ll tell him it’s inappropriate to talk about nipples in class. He didn’t demonstrate did he?

AP: laughing now. No ma’am. But the art teacher says that he has to stop talking like this because it’s so inappropriate.

Me: He only does it because it’s getting under her skin.

AP: I’ll just let the teacher know we’ve talked, Okay?

Me: Yup. Sounds great.

This child is going to be my biggest pain in the ass Challenge.

BTW–I’m pretty sure he got the licking nipples thing from The Family Guy. Ooops.

My 8 year old had a really, really, really bad day at school a couple of weeks ago.

It was so bad, he came home and told me about it. He told me everything–except for the part where he was extremely rude to the assistant teacher. He absolutely refused to do anything she told him and apparently had a couple of ugly things to say to her in the process.

All this happened on a Friday. On Monday, I get a note filling in the missing pieces of the story. We do the “do you know what you did wrong?” talk and he tells me he’d just had a really bad day and took it out on Mrs. G.

I said, “Well, you should draw her a picture and tell her you’re sorry.”

So he did. I didn’t see the finished picture, but I saw him writing the note to Mrs. G. He told me that afternoon that Mrs. G. really liked his picture and that was that.

Until this morning when I ran into Mrs. G…

Mrs. G: Did you see the picture he drew me?

Me: No. Should I have?

Mrs. G: Laughing Oh Lord, yes.

Me: Worried now. Um. Why?

Mrs. G: Well, (snicker, snort) he drew me a picture of a donkey.

Me: gasp. this didn’t start off promising.

Mrs. G: At the donkey’s head, he wrote my name and drew an arrow. “This is you.”

Me: grimacing

Mrs. G: And at the rear end he wrote, “And this is what I’ve been.”

Well, that did it. I started laughing and couldn’t stop.

Me: Well, I guess he can recognize ass-like behavior afterall.

Mrs. G. went on to say that it was by far the best note of apology she’s ever received.

I should say so.