Heard a song on the radio yesterday that transported me back in time. I also realized that, as a teenager, I had had no life experiences that allowed me to really relate. I have now.
“…I don’t want to start any blasphemous rumors, but I think that God’s got a sick sense of humor, and when I die, I expect to find him laughing….” - Depeche Mode (Depa-chè Mood, as pronounced by my dad.)
A quick estimation suggests that 50% of my students have kids. Some have multiple kids and multiple baby mamas. I know this because they proudly show me pictures of their healthy-, well-adjusted-seeming children (sometimes photographed right there in the visiting room!), or they eagerly await their transcripts each quarter so they can mail them off to their offspring in California or Florida or Oklahoma, trying hard to send the message, “I’m working hard in prison, earning good grades. Surely, you can do the same out there in Junior High. Stay in school!” Honorable, but much too feeble, and much too late. My students’ kids are not completely normal or well-adjusted. How can they be when their fathers have done something terrible enough to be locked up for 5, 10, 30, 200 years? What do they tell the other kids at school?
And Monica and I, who have no anti-social or violent tendencies, and who would raise the next brilliant leaders of the free world, have had two boys die in utero.
Yep. God’s up there. He’s an absolute sicko. And he’s cracking, the fuck, up.
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the double-edged sword that is ninja… though her mid-night whining wreaks havoc on r.e.m. she may also serve to keep sire tebow occupied in the a.m. (truly sorry that she kept you up on friday night…next time we’re sending over with a stuffed goose, a security blanket of sorts. i suppose if that doesn’t work, her goose will be cooked!)
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