puncture wounds and works in progress

Recap of Daly's and my freak-out ten minutes ago:

I'm sitting on the couch.  Daly is sitting in window behind the couch.  Gabe bangs on the front door.  Daly panics and catapults off my head, digging his claws into my forehead.  I scream. Daly runs into a dining room chair face first.  I scream in pain and shock.  Daly's tail puffs up to 4 times its normal size.  Gabe feels very bad.  I stomp upstairs to blot the blood off my forehead.  Daly hides.  Gabe follows me.  I stomp back downstairs and pout a little.  Not proud.  Gabe hugs me.  He's nice.

Below are a few photos from the day.  Mostly eighth graders' works in progress, along with a t-shirt I was (pleasantly) surprised to see on one of my students.  He also had a Bible sitting on his desk.  Despite my rant last week about "kids these days" I find that some of them are thinking about more than just the opposite sex.

You know those cooked chickens they have at grocery stores? I'm pretty sure they pipe the scent through the ventilation system.  Well today, I caved and bought one.  I was craving Clementine oranges as I left school, so I stopped at the store.  The clementines were 7.99 a box!  So instead I bought bananas, daffodils, shampoo and a chicken.  I could barely stand the delicious fumes that filled my car on the drive home.  So I saved 7.99, but ended up spending $15ish.  Stinking chickens and their heavenly smell.