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gravy

Years ago I taught this pair of sisters that loved everything about school. Well, everything except learning anything. Gossip? Check. Record? Check. Lunch? Double check.
Every day the oldest sister would ask what was for lunch before 8 a.m. every day she felt the need to inform me of the menu. Every single day.
She had a favorite, gravy. I don’t know why. It boggles the imagination because the “cooks” at that school had perfected two things: rolls (rocks) and gravy (brown paste). They even figured out that the computer in the lunchroom could be used to warn people of the upcoming horrors about to be inflicted upon them.
The first day of October the eldest sister stuck her head in my classroom and excitedly announced “maw B, there are TWO gravy days in October!”
The entire class of students swung their disbelieving eyes my way. I calmly (as I could) said “thank you.”
As she closed the door I informed the class “early detection system.” The entire room nodded sagely.
Gravy days indeed.

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