Schooldays, Schooldays.

At six o’clock Alex produces three textbooks and a roll of plastic wrap from his backpack. So far, along with a stained shirt and an equally stained friend, this is what he has managed to bring back from his first day of third grade. Following a great tradition of schoolchildhood, he offers no other answer other than “fine” when asked how the day went, shrugs his shoulders when prompted for details and gives my mother a look of total incomprehension when she asks what that stain is.

Gosh, little brother, I am so proud of you.


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