Last year I had a funny, snot-nosed brat who loved wisecracks and flipping plastic bottles (a real obsession with middleschoolers last year). Last week, a giant eighth-grader came loping down the hall toward me.
I was wearing one of my “new” sweaters, a green one with a white deer leaping in the center. I don’t know what he was wearing because I didn’t have binoculars to see above the first mile of legs.
“Hey, Missus,” he called down with a grin, “it’s not Ugly Sweater Day!” (Translation: It’s good to see you, Miss B!)
“It’s not Ugly Kid Day, either,” I replied, “but here we are.” (Translation: Nice to see you, [name redacted])
He burst into laughter and yelled, “You roasted me!” (Translation: You still love me!)
“You roasted me first.” (Translation: You love me more, you monster.)