Where everybody knows your name

Josh and I took a day-trip to Charlston, which is a really neat town. It's older, well kept and has boatloads of charm. Of course, when older buildings and cities are well kept, it usually means that the elite folks live there, as they're the only ones with enough money to keep it looking fabulous.

We found evidence of this on our walk through the city. We browsed through expensive shops, we passed really nice hotels and restaurants, but this just sent me rolling on the sidewalk:


It's a day spa for the men!

Now, fellas, I don't begrudge any of you your well deserved "me-time," and if pedicures and massages is how you want to spend it, more power to you! It's the fact that they're calling it a barberspa. "Oh, it's a barberspa? Well, that's different than a regular day spa. Because it's barber. Let's go, guys!"

And then to call it "Gents." Sounds a little unsavory to me. A wellness club called Gents...Sorry, my brain goes to gentlemen's club.

I'm sure it's a fabulous way to spend an afternoon. But really guys, if you want a massage, just man up and go to the same place your wife goes. I promise we won't bite.

The great crayon debate

I remember in third grade there was a boy who called crayons "crowns." At first I didn't know what he was talking about, and then I wasn't sure why he was calling these colorful sticks of wax the same name at the shiny metal thing kings wore on their heads. I think I even asked my mom about it once, and ultimately we just decided he must have a speech impediment and we let it go.

So here I am, 22 years later, and I have encountered the great debate yet again in one of my three-year-old classes. We were playing a game called "The Bear Went Into the Woods," where we sing a song while each student takes turns going "into the woods" (into the classroom) and finding a treasure to bring back to the circle. It can be anything in the room. Most students like to get a musical instrument and bring it back. Sometimes they get creative and bring a stuffed animal or something. I always ask them to tell me what they brought back, because if they should so happen to pick up an instrument, it's extra practice if they can identify it.

So today (apparently for the first time in this class) someone brought back a crayon.

"So what'd you bring back?" I asked.

"A CROWN!" the student replied.

Alright. Seeing as how most of them can barely speak clearly anyway at 3, I figured she just needed a little help.

"A crayon?" I corrected her, pronouncing it "cran."

Oh, dear. This started a war. Another girl joined in. "No, a cray-ON!" She exclaimed, emphasizing the "on."

Then we got all kinds of participation.

"Crown!"

"Cray-own!"

"Cray-yan!"

"Tway-yan!"

I was being attacked. And when I tried to move on and keep playing the game, wouldn't you know the next girl picked a crayon? I finally had to tell our "cray-ON" advocate that I believed her because she would not let it go. After crayon wars, part two, the last person had had her turn and I changed the game.

Good thing it's the end of the year and I have no more plans to include crayons in the rest of my lessons.

NEWSFLASH, NEWSFLASH!!!

Hey, y'all! I have a NEW blog that you should check out: "Crackin' My Veggies Up" at http://veganpancake.blogspot.com/. It chronicles my new life as a vegan. Sometimes funny, sometimes just interesting. Have a look-see!