So, I drop The Boy off at Ms. R's this morning. It's a short day for the babysitter, because The Wife is picking him up at 11:30 for his visit to the Valerie Fund Center. Okay. Drop the diaper bag off, drop off his snack bag, drop off the baby, head to work. Telephone rings twenty minutes later. "Do you know where the diapers are?" Whoops. Turns out, when my wife said this morning, "The diapers are done in the dryer!", she really meant, "Pack some diapers from the dryer into the diaper bag." Whoops. Run from school to home, pack the diapers with the liners, run to the babysitters (st00pid elementary school drop-off traffic... I hate it so much...) (that's a Simpsons quote, not an indication that I hate elementary schools or their students), run back to school. Argh.
Standing in the hallway today, four band / orchestra kids come walking down the hallway together, Reservoir Dogs-style. The one on the left is, like, 6'3". The one next to him is 5'10", the next one is 5'4", the last one is about 4'10". (That's the great thing about middle school. You have the kid who's ready for the high school basketball team in the same grade as the kid whose feet don't touch the ground when they sit in a chair.) Orchestra Dude, my colleague, says, "Wow - you guys look like a bar graph!"
Heh. The fact that it was unintentional was the funniest part. They were amused as well.