Why I love Ryan even when he sort of says things that aren't so awesome by accident.

One time, not too long ago, I was leaning over and Ryan noticed those two dimples that you have on your lower back.

"Hey, I've never noticed those dimples!" he said.

"That's because I've gained weight," I quipped, trying to play on my semi-obsessive compulsion to work out constantly.

"Oh," said Ryan, which signified his ending of the conversation via my apparently sensible remark.


And then we had a talk about how you don't actually say that as a response. (Even if I know he really didn't mean it to sound like he'd been thinking the same thing...)

I cannot in good conscience...

...ask my students to complete the following fill in the blank worksheet from our reading series:

I like balls that are big, round, and _________.

I ask you, what pervert wrote that into a first grade text book?

Public apology.

I'm sorry I haven't written any of you back lately on your posts. I promise I read them. And love them. And have for some reason not done a very good job at responding. I'm on it.

Shameless marketing.

My fabulous father has written a book and worked with my equally fabulous mother to get it published. Go buy yourself one.

Spotted:

60-ish year old, disheveled man. On determined path toward checkout lanes at local Meijer grocery store. Muttering repeatedly the unnerving phrase, "I-am-in-need-of-some-mental HELP! I-am-in-need-of-some-mental HELP!" Utterly serious. 6 pack of Raspberry Smirnoff under each arm.

Steer clear.