tiffany's spot

Dear Steven: Hey, I wanted some coke to drink with my soup. But there was no coke! Can you believe it? No? Me neither. But don't worry, I found one. Although, I DID have to open a box. Whew! And once it's open.... Love you    -Tiffany This is the series of texts I sent him today. I don't know if any of you remember my facebook posts from just after Coca Cola changed its recipe:       There is one case of coke left. At most, we had 26. I think Steven is having a hard time coming to terms with the end of his never-ending supply. Also, I would think that (as the original facebook post suggests) since he spent OUR life savings, the coke should be OURS. Apparently he does not agree. Suddenly it is his coke. I told him that six of them are his. Five are mine.  He made this face: See, he doesn't even look all that angry. It's like he WANTS me to just help myself.  Love you honey.

I am teaching phys. ed. today (I have prep now. I'm not actually doing this during class. For real). This is obviously because when I originally walked into the division office all those years ago to add myself to the sub list, the staff took one look at me and thought, "wow, there's an athlete. Stick her in phys. ed." Right? Today we are practicing football. I was literally hit in the ass by (what I hope was) an errant football. This sort of thing does not happen in high school English Lit classes. Ever. The worst I ever get hit with is a little light eye-rolling and some teenage attitude. Once I sort of got hit on by a strange little 13 year old, but that's another story altogether, and that was health class. Anyway. Ass. Football.  My favourite students today: 1) The pair of ten year old girls who literally could not throw. They didn't even have the slightest notion. I'm talking between the legs, over the head stuff. They weren't giggling or being s