The Sheep Believes That Children Are Our Future...

It is 7:45 in the god-forsaken a.m. and The Sheep is sitting blearily at her desk attempting to summon up the will to educate the masses for another seven hours. Several students enter the classroom with all the boundless joy of pre-teens gearing up to start the day. Among them is Young Mr. Creativity.

Young Mr. Creativity: Hey, Ms. Sheep! Guess what?

Ms. Sheep: Why, hey yourself, you little future taxpayer who will be supporting me in my old age! I find myself unable to guess! Pray, share with your teacher who lives to give you the knowledge you will need to make the world a better place.

YMC: Last night, I took apart a mechanical pencil and made...A Thingy Of Doom!!!

MS: ....

YMC: (in a louder voice and with grand arm gestures) A THINGY OF DOOOOOOOOM!!!

MS: Um...why, that's so very...special, my little public school angel. Perhaps you could tell me just a little bit more about this? You know, so I can alert the Nobel people or say...some sort of "proper authority..."

YMC: OK, so I took apart this mechanical pencil ('cause it was my sister's and I hate her) and it had this little springy thing in it so I rigged it up to fling little paper wads.

MS: Little paper wads, you say! How very clever of you, bringer of light to this teacher's dull existence. Just out of curiosity...you aren't using it to fling anything else, by any chance? Like, say, I dunno, nails or fiery things?

YMC: (looking at MS in a somewhat pitying fashion) No. That wouldn't be safe. Sheesh!


I am hopeful, people. Truly hopeful. They may be making Thingies Of Doom, but they have a certain sense of responsibility about the whole thing. I have a number of students in my tender care, but Young Mr. Creativity is my favorite. Yes, we have them...no sense trying to hide it. And he's mine because how can you not love a kid who makes a Thingy of Doom in his spare time?

And I'm pretty sure he knows this...


In spare moments between molding young minds so that they can later become villains straight out of a Bond flick, I have been knitting merrily away on my new socks. The gussets are done thanks to this afternoon's session on the stationary bike and a foot is appearing before my very eyes. This is not going to be like the Socks Of Immense Proportions and will have a much more fitted look. So much so that I question whether it will allow for circulation below mid-calf, but I'm too far into it stop now. There is no way that these bad boys are going to slip down at any point.

Even if I someday have to flee at top speed from a giant paperwad flung by a Thingy Of Doom. Safety first, I always say...

SA