So on completion of the morning ritual around the house today and the feeding/breakfasting/dressing/tooth-brushing of a little guy--we're off to school.Today is a special day at Waldorf--the last day of class until the 6th.
In honor of that, we-the-parents, get to bring lunch to the teachers and kids. Truly, we do.
On return home, I am going to smoke some chicken (Hey! I've never done that in text before! Smoke Some Chicken! Sounds like a triple entendre.) Yes. Literally smoke some boneless/skinless chicken thighs--and serve them up to the non-vegan (green stoolies) parents and kidlets.
You heard it here first--no matter the hormonal imperative--I will not date any single-mommy-types from my son's class. Bad-form, that. Not theirs--mine if I were to consider such.
But there's this former [I the former hardcore boy who still has 7 earrings and a couple of tatts from age 15 to whenever should know) punk-rock chick (cute little Anarchist symbol tattoo on her middle finger) who now looks more Groovie Gal with the freedom from mammarian bondage to prove such... NO!
NO PLAYDATES WITH CLASS PARENTS.
NO PLAYDATES WITH CLASS PARENTS.
NO PLAYDATES WITH CLASS PARENTS.
See. I do have some resolve. I said it three times with no cutting and pasting.
--DatSauceGuy
