Oh, they will hide in shame

Reason #428 that The Husband and I will be an embarrassment to our future teenaged children:

Last Saturday, I told the joke, "Where do cantaloupes go in the summer? John Cougar's Melon Camp," and The Husband laughed and laughed and laughed.

No posts

I know I haven't been posting anything lately. There are two reasons for this. First, I sort of backed myself into a corner with the whole "grad lab" theme, and I am running out of stories. Despite what it may have felt like while it was happening, I was in grad school for a finite time. Logically, then, I will eventually reach a point in which I have described every moment of my time there and I'll be done. But that's not the only reason. The other reason is that I have been crazy busy all day lately, and then at night I am exhausted. Last night I fell asleep at 8:30. 8:30! I am ninety. So when I get home, the last thing I want to do is stare at my computer screen.

So I will leave you with a non-grad-lab story about my three-year-old nephew. I went to his house yesterday to have lunch with him and my parents, but they weren't there. So I went by for lunch today, and told him about missing him yesterday. "But... did you look for me?" he said.

"Yes, I did!" I told him. "But you weren't home!"

He gave me a blank, confused look. "But... did you look in the living room?"

The thing is...

Yesterday, I had lunch with my three-year-old nephew and my parents. I brought my sandwich, and when I opened up the Tupperware and put it on the table, my nephew grabbed half my sandwich and took a bite.

"Hey!" I said. "What are you doing? You can't just take someone's sandwich off their plate like that."

"Well," he said, "here's the thing. I wanted your sandwich."

I held my ground, but it is very difficult to explain manners to a three-year-old who keeps saying, very solemnly, "Here's the thing."

I didn’t spend a hundred eleven billion million years* in evil grad school to be called “Ms.,” thank you very much

I’m trying to hire a part-time glassware washer, and an applicant called me today. He’s a college student, and called me “Dr. Mo” (except he used my last name) throughout the phone call.

He’s hired.

^*Possibly it only felt that long.