What's Wrong with Kids These Days
One day, my grandkids will ask me what it was like to be a freshman in high school, and hear of the Columbine shooting, and staring at the TV for hours, trying to make sense of it, and I will have no words for them.
One day, my grandkids will ask me what it was like to be a senior in high school, sitting in Algebra2/Trig on 9/11/2001, and I will have no words for them.
One day, when I send my first child to Kindergarten, I will slip a cell phone into her backpack, regardless of the rules, just in case someone comes in to hurt them. To hurt a class of five year olds. I have no words.
One day, when I send my child to college, while we are unloading their possesions and making her bed, Lee and I will have to tell her that if anyone ever comes into her class or dorm with a gun, to play dead, so that she may survive. Then I will have no words.
WHY?
I don't have any more words.
One day, my grandkids will ask me what it was like to be a senior in high school, sitting in Algebra2/Trig on 9/11/2001, and I will have no words for them.
One day, when I send my first child to Kindergarten, I will slip a cell phone into her backpack, regardless of the rules, just in case someone comes in to hurt them. To hurt a class of five year olds. I have no words.
One day, when I send my child to college, while we are unloading their possesions and making her bed, Lee and I will have to tell her that if anyone ever comes into her class or dorm with a gun, to play dead, so that she may survive. Then I will have no words.
WHY?
I don't have any more words.