I’m tutoring in an elementary school classroom, and reading timelines the students have created. My favorite:

Election

Oaklahoma City Bombing

Iraq

Trade Center

My no-good, rotten, makes a big deal out of everything sister is born.

It’s 7:30 a.m. This young man is wearing a black jean jacket and walking along with his hands in his pockets. When he spots us, he bends at the waist and runs across our path with his head lowered. His hair bounces across his eyes as he jogs. Bryan and I exchange a glance just as the man begins making startled-crow sounds, “CAW! CAW! CAW!”

Once he’s passed, he straightens again and resumes his natural gait.

Bryan really did run over his laptop with the car. Good thing he’s pretty.

We hear a radio story about how injuries are way up among kids because the push to excel at competitive team sports is growing.

Me: Screw that. Whatever happened to just going out in the yard and playing? I guess if they really, really want to be on a soccer team or something, but it would suck to shuttle them from event to event so you can feel like they “excel.” They should just be kids; play however they want to play.

Bryan: As long as they win.

Me: Exactly.

Say you wake up, and it’s still dark, and you’re groggy, and you’re thirsty.
Say you stumble into the kitchen, and you see the silhouette of a container of cranberry juice on the counter. Say you’re sleepy, so you don’t stop to think about why it’s not in the fridge, or why the cap feels funny.

In that situation, my advice for you is not to drink it. It’s probably olive oil.