Or maybe it’s just because I’m weird
We had a parent/teacher conference with Sassy’s teacher today. I never worry about talking to her teachers because she’s the good kid. She is conscientious, a rule follower. She’s the kid who won a kindness award for crying out loud.
The teacher told us exactly what we expected to hear. All is well in the 6th grade.
When I was tucking Sassy into bed she wanted to know what the teacher said about her. This kid is also a bit paranoid.
“Well, she did mention a certain aroma from your area.”
Even in the dark, I could see her eye roll. “Uh huh.”
“And that it would be great if you’d comb your hair once in a while.”
Deep sigh. “Right.”
“She also said she secretly thought of you as a weasel.” I giggled. “Probably something to do with the smell.”
“Yeah,” she said, but she didn’t sound like she meant it.
I gasped. “You don’t believe me?”
She looked at me in the dark. “You do have a tendency to make things up.”
Well, that’s true. I do like to make things up.
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