I graduated high school in 1993. That’s 22 expletive years ago.
Anyhoo, as always, there were trouble-makers. Back then, they hung out in the “back parking lot.” No, I wasn’t one of them. I didn’t lose it until I was 22-23, so I was a goody-two-shoes in high school. During my tenure there, the school decided to hire a security guard. We’ll call her T. T. was a very butch, sturdy, tough woman with hair that was thisclose to a mullet. I remember her taking her job seriously, but I also remember her managing to keep a good relationship going with the teens.
Hadn’t given her another thought. Then Logan began going there for 7th grade. (A surreal experience, let me tell you.) I made arrangements the day before school started to walk him through his day before he started to lessen his scatter-brain induced paralysis he tends to get in new/stressful situations. In the office, I ran into T.
SHE LOOKS EXACTLY THE SAME.
Still tough, built, butch, strong, sturdy, and hair thisclose to a mullet.
Logan got into the car after school today and this conversation ensued:
“MOM. You know that lady, T.?”
“Yes.”
“She drives a go cart around campus.”
“Okay.”
“She has a parrot.”
“…okay…”
“She makes the go cart go slow so he can ride on the top and yell at all the kids when she goes by.”
“…”
“She’s… well. She’s… very healthy looking, isn’t she mom?”
God, I love that kid.
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