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Apr. 29th, 2007 11:38 amI was working on Sam's birthday ficlet and I started to write "On his 16th birthday, Sam aced his Practical Law test and scored a date with the cute blonde from his Spanish class." Which made me actually start thinking about Practical Law. Did anyone else take Practical Law in high school? For us, it was reserved for juniors and seniors (I took it my junior year) and I don't remember hardly anything out of the class (other than the day Mr Robinson walked into the middle of class while miss Newell was teaching, kissed her, and walked back out) except for Drug Wars. Which was the most hilarous two weeks of school that year. We were all given envelopes with a role and props, dividing us into 3 groups: buyers, dealers, and cops. And we had to figure out who was who, and the dealers/buyers had to make drug deals (with Monopoly money & Smarties!) and the cops had to figure out who was buying/dealing and bust them. This was all background to all our other classes, and we all had so much fun because we had this little secret club thing going on. I dunno, I just found it amusing to remember. *g*
My boys are laying under the back porch swing scheming something. Gotta go sneak up on them and find out what.
ETA: Oh, my boys. I went to sit out front and the boys came running around the corner. They each had a wiffle bat pretending it was a shotgun, and I heard Davey say something about some ghosts are good, but these are bad ghosts. I asked them if they were playing Dean and Sam (which I already knew) and Ronnie said he was Dean (which I also knew), but then Davey says, "I'm Sam, the vision guy. Dean is the goober guy."
Now, they have the camp chairs set up in the front yard (y'know how you used to line up the dining room chairs when you were little to make a train? same kidna thing) and it's the Impala. Except I'm apparently sitting in the trunk, b/c I'm stretched out on the couch (like a campchair but it seats three) behind their seats, and they keep tossing their "guns" on me.
I think they watch too much TV.
My boys are laying under the back porch swing scheming something. Gotta go sneak up on them and find out what.
ETA: Oh, my boys. I went to sit out front and the boys came running around the corner. They each had a wiffle bat pretending it was a shotgun, and I heard Davey say something about some ghosts are good, but these are bad ghosts. I asked them if they were playing Dean and Sam (which I already knew) and Ronnie said he was Dean (which I also knew), but then Davey says, "I'm Sam, the vision guy. Dean is the goober guy."
Now, they have the camp chairs set up in the front yard (y'know how you used to line up the dining room chairs when you were little to make a train? same kidna thing) and it's the Impala. Except I'm apparently sitting in the trunk, b/c I'm stretched out on the couch (like a campchair but it seats three) behind their seats, and they keep tossing their "guns" on me.
I think they watch too much TV.
