On Friday, as my students were working on an art project, I played some Michael Jackson tunes. L, a 4th grader I've referred to in past posts, is a huge fan. I was singing along when someone asked me how I knew the words. "This is my generation of music, guys. I danced to a lot of MJ in my younger days." There were a few nods, and all but one of my students returned to the project at hand. I was no longer of interest. L, however, looked at me with slightly averted eyes. "You know, Ms. Stern, Michael Jackson was pretty old when he died. Not saying you are really old or anything, but maybe just a little old."
I stopped by Nordstrom and stocked up on wrinkle cream. I plan to slather it all over L's head after I use it myself.