While digging through one of the 1,000 picture boxes at Mother’s this week, I discovered a few old report cards from days gone by.
There were Charlie’s with his perfect record of
annoyingly excellent behavior, Zola’s were there as well. And of course I found a couple of mine.
Ok, I didn’t run with scissors, I obeyed school regulations and amazingly, I got along with others.
But, I could have “put my spare time to better use”.
Quite honestly, if it’s spare time, why did anyone else care?
It’s spare time.
As in extra.
As in do what you darn well please.
Frankly, this smudge on my permanent record stings a tad!