Mom and Dad are visiting this week after making the trek down through Wyoming from Polson, Montana. As we sat with steaming mugs of tea Mom commented to me, "I had to laugh when I read your post about Back to School nights blog," which is code for: you messed with the truth, young lady!
So I quickly apologized for any fiction I may have passed off as reality, and she waved her hand and said, "it's only that we DID go to back to school nights at Rolling Hills High School. Both of us went; one went to your classes while the other went to John's. And Dad still remembers that French teacher of yours, and the eighty-two-year old long term sub you had in Calculus. And how would we know that if we had not gone to Back to School night?"
Duly chastened, I noted that no one could forget Madame, and admitted that as a self-absorbed 16-year-old, I probably didn't notice anything that didn't pertain to my immediate self. Since I wasn't at my own open house,it could not have happened. Makes me aware of what's in store when my kids get just a bit older . . .and my own reputation goes down the tubes. Mea culpa, Mom and Dad.
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