OMG! My husband just told me a few minutes ago that people are het up over the notion that their kids are going to be taught Arabic numerals.
I’m like… “Really? No… is this… you mean online or at work?”
“Work.”
Facepalm.
I told him if they say anything again, to ask them if they believe Roman numerals would be a better option to do math with.
(Gah, the MAGA people are fucking stupid.)
Awwwww… oooh. Yeah, one of the few demons I never minded when it came to visit. Mine lasted for 16 years and is now a decade gone. Still miss the fluffy little girl fiercely.
Well, when you get to the age where mom jeans are what you want, it’s a given that you’re also at the no fucks given age WRT fashion.
It’s as liberating as hell.
I blew past mom jeans and went straight to cargo shorts and a strap belt to hold them up (in spite of being fat, I still have no ass), flip flop sandals and leg warmers. And an oxblood woolrich winter flannel shirt.
You know those days when the birds all seem to disappear? It’s Hermes driving them all to hide. Good job!