Some friends of ours came to visit last week. On the second night of their stay, I was in the kitchen, working on dinner, when I looked across the kitchen island to see Ann sitting on the sofa, working on her computer, and chewing gum. I barely had time to choke back the words that threatened to spill from my lips: "Spit out your gum!" When she saw the look of horror on my face, Ann had to ask me what was wrong. I felt obligated to tell her.
As if living in Texas wasn't reason enough for people to not visit, now I add my crotchety teacher anal-retentiveness to the mix. I'm like social cyanide.
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2 comments:
I correct my dad's grammar over the phone. He hates me.
Yeah, unfortunately, some of that teacher instinct stays with you longer after actually teaching. I still have to stop myself getting onto kids in the grocery store for smart-mouthing people or being disrespectful. I have scars on my tongue from biting it so often.
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