Listen, Subway

I'm going to need you to wrap my sandwich in more layers. I know that you already wrap it first in a layer of white deli paper, followed by that second layer of printed deli paper, and then you stuff into a plastic sleeve sack, cushioning it in a nest of approximately fifty to eighty napkins, but that's just not enough for me. 

When I go to your restaurant, and sit down inside it to eat my sandwich, five seconds after you hand it to me, I don't want to just un-swaddle three barriers in order to hit bread - I want more. 

Here's what I suggest: after you've sacked it up, place that sack inside a shoebox. I don't care what brand. Next, place that shoebox in a safe. It's up to you whether or not you're going to provide the combination. I'm not afraid of safecracking. In fact, if my lunch is waiting as a reward, I will just crack that much faster. In any case, after my turkey sub is securely locked away, place that safe inside a treasure chest. Then freeze that treasure chest until it's coated in a thick layer of ice. Then, finally, wrap the giant ice block in one more layer of deli paper. That's how I want my sandwich from now. Thank you. 

Also, writing that just totally reminded me of this!

Lady Lovely Gross

I keep trying to explain Lady Lovely Locks to my student, and as I do so, I realize more and more how gross the concept is. Think about it. She's a princess, with three vermin-like animals who just crawl into her hair when she calls them. "Oh, you like my lavender extensions? Thanks! Yeah, it's actually the long, curled tail of a ferrel rabbit that flies around in a bunch of glitter." 

I guess they are totally helpful. Check out this clip. There's like, a little bit of dialogue in the beginning, and then just ten minutes of only giggling.

Would You Rather

My students and I were playing a round of "Would You Rather" and my fifth-grader came up with one that started, "Would you rather live in an ice cream shop," and I was nodding, already liking the first option, and then she continued, "but it's haunted, or..." Wait a second. Haunted? Not so fast! This is no ordinary ice cream shop! "What's my second choice?" I asked.

My other option was "living in a car in the woods that are full of monsters and it's always night."

Wow. This was going to be a tough one. I don't like it when it's always night. In the end, I chose ice cream shop, because I like ice cream, and I think I could tolerate some paranormal activity if necessary.

Then, she insisted that we explain our dream houses, jobs, and cities.

Her dream job: Alice or Tinkerbell at Disneyland.

Her dream house: Really big mansion with long white marble staircases and the white marble staircases have gold railings.

Her dream city: Everything is made out of candy: the roads are chocolate bars, the clouds are whipped cream, the rain is marshmallows. And, blood is jam.


"Blood is jam."

"Eww. Like strawberry jam? Like in Candyworld your blood is strawberry jam?"


Think about how creepy it is that she thought of that! She just went from a perfectly acceptable childhood fantasy, in which your world looks exactly like that old school Dairy Queen commercial, to "I want to eat some blood!" What is she, some sort of Cullen?

I guess it is kind of sweet and innocent though. Taking something sad and gory and turning it into something that may very well be pumping through Strawberry Shortcake's veins as we speak.

In any case, I'm still thinking of exactly what would constitute my dream house, my dream job, and my dream city; but there's one thing I know for sure. Every time I enter a Cold Stone Creamery, for a flickering moment, I will wonder what it would be like to live inside, pestered by poltergeists, surrounded by floating cones.

What carbs?