Julia and the School Board

 Julia and five of her classmates were selected to give a presentation to the school board on some technology they have been using to help them learn about different topics.  The particular topic they had studied for their presentation was agriculture, so Julia and one of her friends dressed the part.  Julia came complete with pitchfork and potato.  She offered to bring in one of our chickens and her principal seriously considered it until she noticed the look of horror on computer teacher's face.

Our family was smirking a little about this presentation, because Paul had had a rough time with this same computer teacher.  While we waited for the school board meeting to begin, Julia asked the teacher, "Hey, do you remember my brother, Paul?  He would have been in your class two years ago."  She didn't.  I stood there smiling politely, while trying to mentally beam Julia with messages to clam up!

Julia did a fine job with her part in the presentation.  She spoke clearly and the presence of the real pitchfork brought some levity to the board meeting.  (Keep that away from Joan!)

After the meeting the team of students fielded some questions from the board members.  When asked if they always liked working on teams to study a topic, Julia, pitchfork in hand and without missing a beat, answered, "No."

A couple of her team members gasped, and she followed with, "This team was great to work with, but sometimes they're not great teams, and then I don't like it."

The girl can speak the truth to authority. 

Unfair! - by Maggie

You humans are so contrary and inconsistent.
I constantly hear you sniping at the little humans to clean up messes, even if they weren't the ones who made the mess in the first place.
So what do I do?
When I find a puddle of spilled pasta sauce (with beef!) in the driveway, I lick and lick until it is ALL cleaned up so that you won't step in while you finish unloading the groceries.  I even find the sauce that you tossed over into the grass and slurp it up (so good!) so that nobody accidentally tracks through it.  I wipe my whiskers thoroughly in the grass, and the try to finish cleaning out my beard on the couch when we go inside.
And what kind of thanks do I get for all my thoughtful cleanliness?
A big fat trip to the washtub to rinse my schnauzer beard out. 

You know how I feel about that.

So not cool.