This book reminds me of being at my grandmother’s house. It lived there along with a hodge-podge of other toys that had just always lived at Grandma’s. Like my mother’s old baby doll and the clothes my Grandma sewed for it. And the life-sized stuffed pink python my Grandpa brought my mom from a toy convention he attended in NYC in the 60s.
More flash mobbing, more group dancing. I’m finding myself very cynical about these now. I refuse to watch another video of Phillipino prisoners. But secretly, deep down, I really want to do lots of mass public dancing.
It never pays to lie to the gym teacher. The only thing worse than having to run during P.E. is getting caught in a lie about how many laps you ran – in front of the whole class.