Middle-school freakout

The freakiest thing that happened to me at middle school orientation (Hannah’s going to sixth next year) was the realization, at first dubious and then almost certain, but only confirmable once I was home and able to look in my high school yearbook, that my daughter’s middle-school principal was once, long long ago, a teacher at my high school. I never had her, so I was only about 90% sure, but then I got home and looked her up and sure enough: Miss Towle, English. Annoyingly, she’s aged less than I have, or at least I wouldn’t have guessed her to be any older than I am. I wanted to go up and ask her if she had ever taught at Scotia, but then decided that if she hadn’t, that might come off strange, so I let it go. After I told Lee, she said she was going to play the Scotia card, but I protest — not her card to play. She’s not a true Tartan (yeah, like I was). Hey, there were some people who got to go to the England Dan and John Ford Coley free concert in the Scotia gym, and there were many, many who didn’t. If you weren’t there, you don’t get to play the Scotia card. (Okay, so exactly one reader will have any idea what I’m talking about. She knows who she is.)