"Is there such a thing as late-onset Tourette's Syndrome?" I asked the Resident Fan Boy as we trudged along the street that leads to younger daughter's school, girding ourselves for a confrontation. In the tortuous week leading up to this morning's showdown, I've been beset with a host of unpleasant physical manifestations of my inner tension, including an unwelcome new one: a twitch at the lower corner of my right eye which wasn't quite a tic. Briefly, I toy with visions of myself sitting on buses beating out rhythms on my thighs, exploding in expletives.
But it turns out that curfew shall not ring tonight. We had a pleasant and productive encounter with the head teacher who, it turns out, has been rather distracted by a wedding this past weekend -- her own. Also, the teacher that has really been worrying us is not in until Wednesday. The Resident Fan Boy and I made our way to the bus taking us for a coffee break downtown before the RFB goes back to work, and I collapsed briefly on his shoulder.
This calls for music, don't you think?
First up: Bohemian Rhapsody on a ukulele.
No, really.
This is amazing:
Next up, something I have shamelessly stolen from the eclectic blog Eine Kleine Nichtmusik:
Perfect. If you hear some extra thumping, that will be me beating out a rhythm on the computer tower. I may even swear a little...
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