When I was eight years old I had a teacher called Mrs. Chatterton at the Veazie Street School in Providence. She was a large fat woman with a head of compacted white pin-curls, who smelled of mothballs and Jean Nate (or Eau de Deu Dadei as we used to call it... sound it out). The thing I remember about her most was that she had an almost endless supply of tissues inserted into her clothing with which to wipe her nose. If she wore a dress with sleeves they would be inserted in them. If not, they would be tucked into her enormous brassiere.
Well, today I was sitting at my desk, checking out out my news blogs and drinking my morning coffee, when I decided I needed to wipe my nose. I got a tissue and did so and tucked the tissue into my sleeve without realizing it. I burst out laughing and realized... Et, Voila! I am now, officially, an old woman. Frightening, isn't it?
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