Half of a conversation today during 3rd grade recess duty:
"Hey, what's your name again?"
...
"Oh yeah, Miss Fisher--hey, I saw you the other night."
...
"You were picking up the tail of your car off the road."
...
"Your car bumper, yeah. I was in my mom's Trailblazer and I saw you. I thought your name was Mrs. Kingfisher, but when I saw you I couldn't remember."
...
Just one more reminder that life is an open book. There is no escape--even if you're downtown, late for Messiah rehearsal, standing on a dark side street waiting for the police to show up, and yes, putting the front bumper over the passengers' side of your never-quite-ghetto-enough car.
My dad had just finished fixing it that afternoon, bless his heart.
