Friends, Aromas, Countrymen

Lend me your ears.


There's a skunk, or more likely a family of skunks, living in the space beneath Mazzy's schoolhouse. The school is run by a wonderful group of 60's-era hippie women, and it could be safely assumed that one or most of them have had a friendly relationship with a certain sticky green plant at one point in their lifetime. Perhaps even still. In keeping with their personalities, the curriculum they offer is one that attracts a free-living, way-left liberal type of parent. So, when I walked into the cubby room the other day and the skunky smell had me thinking about brownies and papers and rainbows and, well, I was looking for someone around to give a wink and a nudge. Surely they recognized the smell, too.
Well, yes, they did recognize the smell. But apparently I'm the only one who was thinking of "the" skunk and not "a" skunk. So I'm the naughty parent. But I'm not the only one.