Me: “Hey, I need your three sentence summary of the student news.”
D’Avonte: “Ms. M, you KNOW I hate the damn news.”
Me: (teacher face)
D’Avonte: “Fiiiiiiiine.”
Turns in summary…
“They’re talking about Trump and all his bullshit. It’s the same stuff with his bitchass every day. Why do you make me do this?”
Me: “Will you be my bad hombre?”
Ryan: “Only if you’ll be my nasty woman.”
Me: “Liam, what do you want me to bring you back from my trip?”
Liam: (thinking) “ONE RING TO RULE THEM ALL!!!”
Me: “Alrighty then…another t-shirt, it is.”
(Don’t even ask what started this conversation…our texts have a narrative thread that falls somewhere between mescaline overdose and fever-dream.)
Ryan: How would you like a Trump-Cruz ticket.?
Me: I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of me dying.
Ryan: That’s something you could put on Pay-Per-View.
(A second later…)
Ryan: To be clear…Trump-Cruz, not your dying.
Me: Thanks for clarifying, sweetie. Wait, are you saying my death isn’t good enough for Pay-Per-View?
Ryan: Yeah…I don’t think I can win here, so I’m just going to tell you you’re pretty and hope for the best.
Fisticuffs and Shenanigans 