Syllabus #8

You know what to do.  Study up, kids, there might be a pop quiz later.


The conclusions here are pretty obvious, but I do like using Duolingo for practicing grammar and learning new vocabulary.  It's a nice low-stakes way to learn, and the sentences are always extremely practical and never ever represent things you shouldn't say out loud if you don't want to be placed on a psychiatric hold:

In August of 2009, we drove across the country to visit Idaho, and stopped in the Badlands.  ALL I wanted to do was find and pet a prairie dog, but there were signs posted everywhere warning about the presence of plague.  I thought I took a picture of the sign, but I guess I didn't.  They were some bad lands, though.

Somewhere at a VFW, the straight edge kids are x-ing up and 'bout to get so hydrated.

There are so many things wrong with this situation, both systemically and nutritionally.  I love a peanut butter sammich more than an adult ought to love any inanimate object, but that's not the point.  Kids should not be penalized for their parents' socio-economic status or financial choices.  This move really punishes kids twice, with the stigma of being served the poor kid punishment meal, and with the nutritional void that's going to inhibit their learning potential for the rest of the day when they're hungry and their blood sugar is plummeting because they ate white bread with fruit-flavored sugar gloop and some peanut-scented crayon paste, which is 100% what the cafeteria is serving. (Unless they pony up for Uncrustables, which are equally an affront to nutrition and culinary aesthetics.  Also, sidenote, one of the most uncomfortable things I've witnessed recently was a grown man eating an Uncrustable, unironically and without complaint.)


More surprising and interesting than an article about a liquid soap company has any right to be.


How do we really feel about breakfast in bed?  I personally think food in bed is disgusting unless you're an invalid and have no choice, and you know 99% of moms who receive breakfast in bed have the added pleasure of a kitchen disaster to clean and sticky, crumb-filled sheets to wash.  Mom, you sure did a bang-up job of not gagging on the cinnamon toast I subjected you to, year after year.  Did I ever clean up afterwards?  Did you secretly hate it?  Moms of small children, what say you?