Today I went down to the School of Education to talk to a professor about graduate school and while I was there, I rummaged through the graded paper box and grabbed the final two papers from the class I took in the Spring. I pawed past a co-worker’s paper and thought about taking it to her on my way back to my office but then I decided it probably wasn’t kosher to pick up her paper. Especially since I didn’t ask her if she wanted me to grab it.
Of course, I also went right past a paper from the other co-worker who was slack in the class. I missed my opportunity to look to see if the paper in the box was her final (she hadn’t turned it in the last time I heard), but I just kept going until I found my paper. Why must I be so good?
Tomorrow we’re creating a birthday present for someone and I volunteered to go by Target on the way home to pick up some supplies. The birthday girl walked in a freshly laid sidewalk right in front of one of our buildings several weeks ago. One of her shoes got stuck and she ended up on her hands and knees. Unfortunately none of us saw it but we’ve certainly laughed over her story. Yeah, compassionate social worker types have the wickedest sense of humor sometimes. It makes me proud (and no I’m not a social worker).
One person in my office has one of those garden stepping-stone kits at home that she’s bringing in. We’re going to make the stone and put a Barbie or a Polly Pocket in it to simulate the birthday girl’s unfortunate and recent encounter with the sidewalk. I couldn’t decide if the Barbie was better or a Polly Pocket. The Polly Pocket actually has the right hair color but it may be too small for our project. (If The Niece’s parents are reading, The Niece is about to score either a Barbie or a Polly Pocket–whichever we don’t use. And, there are a handful of Polly Pockets in the box so she’ll be getting some PP stuff no matter what. Yay!)
Since when did parts of the Barbie aisle look like Hooker Dolls Gone Wild? Have you seen the Bling Bratz dolls? Who plays with that stuff? I have to admit, it would have helped when we played Barbie. We were sick children and our Barbies often ended up in dismaying story lines.
My girls’ Barbies always ended up naked with their hair chopped off and various drawings on their bodies. It was my excuse to throw it away when I found one like that. I’m proud to say we are Barbie-free now.