I work at a community college and you’d be surprised how old some of the faculty is. A few of the professors are 82. An unfortunate side effect of this is we can’t seem to get through a year without one of them dying on us.
“Vegetables live in oppressionServed on our tables each nightThis killing of veggies is madnessI say we take up the fightSalads are only for murderersColeslaw’s a fascist regimeDon’t think that they don’t have feelingsJust ‘cause a radish can’t scream”
As a teenager, I could be on my knees and bend backward so far that I could put my head on the arches of my feet. I wasn’t circus contortionist flexible but closer to it than anyone else I knew.
Let him use a mixing spoon for a pretend microphone. Some things (like her hair brush) need to be off limits to the kids. Sheesh. At least provide SOME limits.
Possible stroke