My dad returned home from my school after chatting with my social studies teacher. He told me the story at the dinner table from when he walked into the office up until he walked into my teacher’s room.
First was the office. There, what a coincedence, đ he ran into my science teacher, who recognized him from when he came in for “walk-in-my-shoes day” and gave him instructions on how to get to my social studies teacher’s room.
When my dad passed by the classroom of my math teacher, my social studies teacher came out of it, although my dad didn’t know since he’d never seen her before. When he said hello, my teacher asked if he was my father. Soon, they both came to realize who each other were and settled down in the social studies classroom.
Their conversation first started out concerning the heat of the room. ? After that, they got back on track. đ
I can’t remember when or how, but somewhere in the conversation at the dinner table, my dad managed to sqeak in, “Speaking of which…” Then he got off on a little story about one of the house cats, Fuzz, and all her weirdness. It turned out that my father had left his socks on the floor. Wow. Isn’t that fascinating?
Well, anyway, Fuzz started rolling around in them like crazy for five whole minutes. As my mom said, he must have really good-smelling feet! That may not seem strange, but Melody, the other cat, often does that. It was unusual because Fuzz did it. She rarely behaves that way, and she even had her belly fully exposed. WOW. đ
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