I get home from teaching my 100 plus students, some of whom are only 18 and still talking about their “senior year,” after frantically searching for a set of classroom keys I’ve misplaced, teaching half a lecture with a projector that makes all artwork yellow, and attending a parent meeting at the elementary school district that was a waste of time.
I face my own progeny, one of whom is crying over his homework that is taking too long (and yes, it is, and I’m going to complain to the teacher about it, ridiculous that a 10 year old has 3 hours of homework), and the other who is crying because he can’t get his newly tied shoes untied. And the milk has gone bad somehow, and everyone hated their lunch that I made that morning, and the laundry has piled up and and and… it’s going to be a very long semester…
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