My Happy Place

So this morning I jumped in the shower and decided to wash my hair. I have very long and curly hair that reaches midway down my back. However, once its wet the curls straighten out and my hair almost reaches my bum.

So hair is wet, shampooing done and I just need to rinse. I tip my head back and flip my hair over my shoulder ala shampoo adverts everywhere. And feel something brush against the top of my bum. Being the mature and logical gal I am, I came to the one and only possible conclusion.

Spider

With a scream a howler monkey would be proud of, boobs flying and looking like some sort of demented mermaid, I attempted to flee the shower stall. And promptly acquired a new skill; the ability to do the splits.

This in itself was a spectacular feat of physics as there isn’t actually enough room in my bathroom for a toddler to do the splits, never-mind a 5'9" half drowned rat. As a result, when my leading foot came into contact with the toilet pedestal my body was launched back along the floor towards the shower. This left me wedged between the toilet and the shower tray.

Where I was abruptly bitch-slapped by the shower door.

One trip to A&E later and I have a sprained ankle, a fractured ankle, two broken toes, a beautiful rainbow of bruises in some interesting places and a partridge in a pear tree.

TL, DR: Upon learning that my hair now reaches my bum I; preformed gymnastics worthy of Rio, made the laws of physics my bitch and took a guided tour of the local hospital.

Another fuck up in the updates…

That made her available to accept Mr. Disney’s invitation to play Mary Poppins.

We’re working on Shakespeare scenes for competition

A couple of freshmen boys are doing a scene that mentions a sword

The teacher is trying to tell them that they do not need to have a prop sword

They are not understanding

So young

So naive

“90% of the time” she says

“When Shakespeare says ‘sword,’ he’s not talking about a metal sword”

They are still not understanding

The rest of the class understands

We know what we are witnessing

The destruction of innocence

They are so new to the ways and language of the bard

Cinnamon rolls

Pure

Unaffected by theatre kids

Untouched by the horrors of the world

They still do not understand

The teacher does not know what else to do

She knows they cannot go to competition wielding an actual prop sword

She knows they will eventually learn

The class knows this too

We are dying to know what she will say next

She opens her mouth

We are on the edge of our seats

She yells

“LETS TALK ABOUT PENISES!”

Whoop.

There it is

The secret is out

Shakespeare makes dick jokes

Theatre teachers sometimes say things other teachers don’t

It is a shock to their system

In their minds, the kill bill siren

Their world has turned upside down

We can see it in their face

We lose it

We are accustomed to this

We have heard worse

But seeing their faces

It is too much

At this moment

The door opens

A sophomore enters

This is his first theatre class

All he heard was

“Let’s talk about penises”

He shouts out in a confused horror

giants can be good

you decide what’s right

you decide

sirius, inspecting his facial hair: don’t worry, prongs. you’re bound to hit puberty soon, i’m sure of it. 

respect your elders, prongs. you know: dumbledore, mcgonagall, your mother, me.

what’s that? i’ve got a watch from your parents before you? 144 more days, prongs. hang in there. 

age before beauty, prongs. no wait, i’ve got that, too. 

as the fairest, tallest, and oldest marauder present, you ought to listen to me.

to lily, when she turns 20: i can’t believe you’re married to a teenager.

how am i one-hundred and forty five days older than you, and i look so young? one of life’s mysteries, i suppose.

Last Week Tonight s02e29