In Which I Am Actually 12 Years Old

After a Pokemon-catching adventure, my friend’s tween son commented that he remembered exactly where they parked because it was level D, and that’s hilariously memorable because a certain male body part starts with D. Oh man, I thought. Imagine being so caught up in puberty that even the letter D sounds dirty to you. Whoa. Hormones! That’s a thing!

The next day, I was teaching a class on used to and didn’t use to, and I had my students form teams to correct sentences. My students started to ask each other relevant and cooperative questions like Do I want the D here? We need the D. Where does the D go again?

I was really happy to see collab learning going on, but I also had the hardest time not giggling. Because APPARENTLY I am 12.

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