Goofus and Gallant is a cartoon feature that has appeared (in varying versions) in Highlights magazine since 1948.

Do you remember reading Highlights for Kids magazine?

Like millions of American children, I discovered Highlights in the waiting room of the doctor’s office.  Nestled among an array of magazines for grown-ups, Highlights was fun to read because it was especially written for kids.  One of the magazine’s regular features that I enjoyed was a cartoon called Goofus and Gallant.  The cartoon showed side-by-side panels of two boys: Goofus, the boy who always made a poor choice or acted selfishly and his counterpart, Gallant, who always made a better, more thoughtful choice in a similar situation.  The comparison between the characters was deliberate, with the purpose of teaching and assisting children to identify positive character traits.

I have to admit that I always found it somehow satisfying to compare Goofus with Gallant.  Easy to cast judgment upon, I could always imagine devil’s horns on Goofus’ head, while Gallant wore a halo.  The contrast between the two was night and day; the bully versus the teacher’s pet.  I even noticed the way that Goofus’ hair had a little upturned wave to it, compared with Gallant’s clean, controlled cut, and how each boy’s facial expression mirrored his true nature.  And of course, I couldn’t help but consider and know that if I were presented with the same sets of circumstances, I would make the kinds of choices that Gallant made, even if Gallant was a little too saintly.  After all, Goofus was far too selfish and thoughtless, and sometimes downright mean.

But life is not always so black and white, and sometimes we struggle with the choices we make.  We usually want to do what’s right, and most of the time doing what’s right comes easy.  At other times we are challenged, because doing the right thing means putting needs or desires of another before our own.  We want to be Gallant, but sometimes we knowingly make Goofus choices.  We juggle between Self and Other.  That is part of what it means to be human.

And it isn’t easy to be Gallant when we live in a society that values Goofus behavior.  Think about it.  To be Gallant is to be seen as the “goody two-shoes”; weak, compliant, selfless, a rule follower, maybe even a pleaser.  While the Gallants in society are anything but weak, and in fact possess great strength and self-control, they are the members who are often rewarded the least by society.  They are people who are concerned with helping others.  They are the teachers,  caregivers, healthcare workers, emergency service providers, and military service  personnel.  They are law-abiding citizens who pay their taxes and support their communities.  They are moms and dads who put their children and elderly parents first.  They are people who want to make a difference and do.

In contrast, society sees Goofus as the rebel or a maverick who takes control and goes after what he wants.  He does not hold back when it comes to taking care of himself.  The Goofus’s in our society are admired for their strength and ability to achieve.  They often attain positions of leadership (which they often abuse) and are rewarded with financial wealth.  Goofus’s don’t care how many heads they have to step on or how many rules they have to break as they climb the ladder to the top.  They are bullies and manipulators who look out for Number One.  Ironically, these are the members of society who often excite us and grab our attention; we want their power, success, and wealth, even though we  question their values and character traits.

While it can be easy to create stereotypes of human behavior exemplified by Goofus and Gallant, it is more accurate to say that each of us demonstrates a range of behaviors that fall between Goofus’ and Gallant’s.  Goofus and Gallant illustrates that we always have a choice.  Each day we are presented with a variety of decision-making moments.  Whether facing important or trivial matters, we possess the ability to think and feel before we act.  That’s part of being human, too.  To show children from an early age that they have the power to choose actions that will bring about positive outcomes and shape lasting positive relationships is to give them a key to understanding their true nature and strength of character.

Tagged: Decision-making, Goofus and Gallant, Highlights for Kids, making a difference, making choices, politics, positive character traits, right and wrong, society ]]> http://simple-pleasures.org/2013/05/19/goofus-and-gallant/feed/ 0 aprocyson Goofus and Gallant is a cartoon feature that has appeared (in varying versions) in Highlights magazine since 1948. http://simple-pleasures.org/2013/05/16/the-power-of-art-an-invitation/ http://simple-pleasures.org/2013/05/16/the-power-of-art-an-invitation/#comments Fri, 17 May 2013 01:18:31 +0000 admin http://simple-pleasures.org/?p=1672 Continue reading »]]> Art, in its many forms, is one of the simple pleasures in my life.

Art often inspires me; it provokes my thought and emotion.  Whether I am creating art, or experiencing art created by someone else, I find that the power of art lies in its ability to stimulate the senses and ignite the imagination.  And while the appreciation of art is subjective (we know what we like and what we really don’t like), I believe that art, when shared, acts as an invitation to all of us, as observers, to make a connection with an artist.

Recently I watched a video of a performance that exemplifies the word “art” in every sense.  Captivating and compelling, Miyoko Shida assumes the role of artist while, at the same time, becomes an element of her art.  Her unique “balancing act” metaphorically describes the balance and relationship between her performance art and her visual artwork.  In fact, at one point, Miyoko appears to be part of the “sculpture” she creates.  What I find fascinating is that Miyoko maintains a concentration that not only allows her to move with exacting precision, but also draws her audience into the creative process.  The result is nothing short of mindful meditation.

I invite you to view Miyoko’s performance, and experience a wholly engaging and inspirational artist and art form.  Enjoy!

One week it’s summer temperatures, another week it’s cool.  Sometimes it’s downright wintry.  It’s no wonder that poor Mother Nature can get a bit confused.  Unseasonable, warmer temperatures can cause flowers and trees to blossom sooner than expected.  Not that I’m complaining.  I like the spring fashion show; a splash of color really lifts my spirits.  Right now, in my area, we are seeing a lot of white flowering trees.

This past Friday we got a warm-up.  The temperature was soaring to the predicted 78° although there was a small chance we might get some light rain. Around here, warm temperature plus rain equals humidity, so I wasn’t real happy about that!  Anyway, I was at school Friday afternoon, helping my two autistic support students at lunch in the cafeteria.   One of my kids asked if she and her classmates would be going out for recess.  I looked out the window and saw that the sky was overcast.  It did not look encouraging.

I said to my student, “Look out the window, what do you see?”

Maybe I expected that she would see what I saw, a lack of sunshine, and consider that it might be raining. After all, the window was far across the room and we couldn’t tell whether it was raining, but it was a possibility.

I watched as my student peered past me.   All at once, her eyes widened and she exclaimed, “It’s snowing!”  Well, I didn’t expect to hear that!

I looked back again.  The beautiful white flowering trees with their bright green leaves against the backdrop of the white, overcast sky did indeed cause the trees to look snow-covered.  It had “snowed”.  What a beautiful illusion!

When I left school Friday afternoon, I paid a little more attention to the white flower trees along my two-mile drive.  We were expecting a big rainstorm, and the wind was picking up a little.  Occasionally, the wind blew lots of little white petals, causing them to fall like snow from the trees.  It was snowing. 

A white dogwood outside my window catches the sunlight that came Saturday morning following Friday night’s heavy downpour.

Tagged: autism, flowering trees, illusion, Mother Nature, snow, Spring, spring colors, unpredictable weather, warm weather ]]> http://simple-pleasures.org/2013/04/21/april-snow/feed/ 0 aprocyson April Showers A white dogwood outside my window catches the sunlight that came Saturday morning following Friday night's heavy downpour. http://simple-pleasures.org/2013/04/08/seeing-with-the-eyes-of-love-remembering-our-friend/ http://simple-pleasures.org/2013/04/08/seeing-with-the-eyes-of-love-remembering-our-friend/#comments Tue, 09 Apr 2013 02:42:54 +0000 admin http://simple-pleasures.org/?p=1605 Continue reading »]]> Familiar acts are beautiful through love.

-Percy Bysshe Shelley

When I read this quote I find comfort.  Shelley’s words remind me that it is not in the grand gestures, but in the simple everyday routines where beauty and love can be found.  Acts of kindness, of giving and sharing, of listening and playing: these are the ways we show love everyday.  And, if we pay attention,  the way, also, we find it.

Every morning, for as long as I can remember,  our dear feline friend, Charcoal, has waited outside the bedroom door to greet my husband and me.  I always bend down to pet him gently.  “Good morning,” I greet him, and he makes his tour of the room, sniffing and stretching and rubbing his face against familiar places.  I invite  him to come downstairs with me.  I say, “Let’s go get you some breakfast!”  Of course, no matter how much of a head start I get, Charcoal always beats me to the bottom.  We are buddies, and this has been our routine, a reliable part of our day.

About a month ago, we discovered that Charcoal was in the late stages of kidney disease.  We had been noticing that he was losing weight and that his appetite had changed, but we really had no idea he was that sick until we took him to the vet.  Unfortunately, kidney disease is common in cats and there is no cure.  Saddened, my husband, daughter and I decided that the best we could do for  Charcoal would be to encourage him to eat and drink, and to give him lots of TLC as his illness would progress.  We wanted to do so much more, but Charcoal was very sick and there was nothing more we could do.  It was out of our control.  We were able to enjoy and care for Charcoal for these last few weeks until he  passed away on Friday.  He fought a good fight.

We didn’t know where Charcoal came from – he just showed up one day. He let us know in many ways that he was choosing us, and not the other way around.

As all pets are, Charcoal was a member of our family.  He was my kitchen companion, helping me cook or put dishes into the dishwasher.  I know that sounds funny, but his company was a warm reminder that I was not alone as I carried out my tasks.  I would talk with him, and he would respond with his eyes and his distinctive voice.  Sometimes he stood atop the refrigerator, towering over me, only to meet my forehead with his for an affectionate head bump.  Or he would communicate his desire for a little milk by “licking his lips”.  He knew that I knew what he wanted.  We understood each other.  In the evenings he would take turns sitting on our laps, enjoying a little massage or snooze.  Often, he would position himself into the crook of my right arm, to be cradled like an infant with his free arm outstretched to hold my chest.  In those moments, he was my baby.

We had lots of funny moments with Charcoal, too, like the time when I was standing at the top of the stairs, calling out to my husband below.  “HON-NEY!”  Before my husband could respond, Charcoal had charged up the steps like the cavalry coming to my rescue.  What a loyal cat!  He had heard my voice and had come running.

Then there was the infamous Cheese Ball Incident. On New Year’s Eve, my husband, my daughter, and I were watching a movie together and enjoying some party snacks.  Nothing fancy.  A little veggie tray, some fruit, cheese and crackers, and wine.  The movie was a delightful comedy, that concluded with a musical scene, in which the characters were singing and dancing  Bollywood-style.  It was a fun scene and the three of us got caught up in it.  We were dancing our best Indian dances, having a good laugh at ourselves, never noticing how Charcoal was taking advantage of our silliness by getting a good taste of the cheese ball.  Of course we couldn’t be too angry – after all, it was a New Year’s Eve party!

Happiness comes in many forms. The time I spent with my Charcoal brought me great joy.

In the days since his passing, I find myself visualizing Charcoal as I go about my usual routines.  I can see his actions, and picture where he would be sitting or stretching.  I can see his expressive green eyes looking into mine.  I feel both comforted and melancholic as I imagine Charcoal at my side.  He was such an integral part of my day, and had a meaningful impact on my life.  I miss him so much.

Charcoal brought our family a lot of joy, and his presence taught me important lessons, like to be more patient and observant.  Being with him also reminded me to be gentle and nurturing, and to appreciate innocence.  I apply the lessons Charcoal taught me especially when I am with children.  Like him, they possess an innocent nature, and they, too, respond positively with patience and understanding, and gentle nurturing.   I know that I am a better person, in every way, for having known Charcoal.  Our interactions may have seemed like daily routine, but they were more than that to me.  They were meaningful.  In these familiar acts, I found both beauty and love.

For some people near and dear to me it’s, well, bugs. Little, often harmless insects can do no good in our house!  Why they choose to come to us is beyond me.  They are uninvited and unwelcome, and frankly, stand the chance of being annihilated by daring to cross our threshold, perhaps even facing the powerful siphoning vortex of the ceramic bowl (toilet, that is).  Of course, not by my hands if I can help it.  I try to send them on their merry way, back to the out-of-doors, if at all possible.  After all, they probably have little or no idea of the dangers they potentially face coming into our home.

However, I do remember a little incident last summer that had me feeling quite different.  We had noticed a few teeny ants milling around the kitchen.  You know, it’s very difficult to herd up ants to take them outside.  Much as I wanted to avoid violence, some collateral damage was going to be inevitable.  First, I tried using some very civilized ant traps – you know, the kind with the little doors in the box where they come to sample the goods then take it back to the nest (is that the right word, or is it den or lair or something like that?).  In my mind, it would all be a simple and tidy affair.

But in reality,  totally ineffective.  It was like handing out lollipops, and I felt like the sucker!

Then, someone passed along a home remedy guaranteed to do the trick.  We were told to mix a little honey together with some boric acid and the ants would come for the treat and we’d soon be rid of the critters.  So my husband bought borax and mixed it with a good dollop of honey.  I didn’t see much difference.  In fact, it seems that the brave scouts who had to outrun my purple latex dish-washing glove of death were inviting their friends to come out.  They were fearless!  The plan was not working at all!

Then one evening, before going upstairs for a peaceful night’s slumber, I spied a happy conga line dancing its way up the side of a bottom cabinet, and another festive one salsa-ing from the ceiling in the same direction.  Their destination:  the cereal and dry goods/baking ingredients cabinets.  Standing on a chair, I flung open the doors of each cabinet to witness the swinging-est ant party I’d ever seen!  Ants were everywhere, even swimming in one of those nifty little ant baits my husband had crafted.  It looked like a hot tub for ants.  Do you know, I think I even heard a cry of “¡Fiesta! from some tiny voices?  (Well, it was late.)  I said aloud, “Oh no, NOT on MY watch!”  “This party is OVER!”

I was up late that night, using household cleaning spray and wiping up ants with my sponge before checking through food boxes for still more ants.  What an ordeal!   Arrrgh!

It turns out that laundry borax is NOT the same as boric acid (though related), which is probably what we were supposed to be using.  We sprayed around the floor and cabinets the next morning with an aerosol can of Raid™, and lo and behold, no more ants!  Simple and effective, although I wish I could have steered the conga line out the back door and into the backyard, rather than using my military might and chemical warfare, if you know what I mean.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(The line above is an illustration of the happy ant conga line, if you were wondering.)

Yesterday, when three-year-old River was visiting, she noticed an ant making its way across the kitchen floor.  “Oh no, not again!”   My husband and I looked at each other in panic.

You know, we truly are peaceful people.  We want all creatures to live peacefully…in their own homes.

But you can bet that we’re not fooling around this time – that can of Raid™ is at the ready!

When the bee comes to your house, let her have beer; you may want to visit the bee’s house some day.  ~Congo Proverb

everyone naps.

-Tom Hodgkinson, British writer and editor of The Idler

Judging from the way my family feels about napping, this must be true.  Time spent in the comforting refuge of  bed and blankets, head cradled by pillow or arms and legs wrapped ’round a pillow, somnolent with nary a care in the world…that may very well  describe paradise.   But not for everyone.

Cats are experts in the art of napping

Occasionally, I give in to a midday snooze.  Unfortunately, I don’t always wake up feeling refreshed.  Sometimes I feel worse;  headache, groggy…and sleeping longer than I had wanted.  Sometimes my mind is too busy sorting thoughts and ideas that it is difficult for me to tune out and enter into slumber.  Instead, I prefer to choose a quiet activity to settle down with.  I might read or go on my computer or listen to music.  For me, time spent like this can be very gratifying.

For others, the tradition of siesta is just what’s needed.  The word siesta comes from Spanish, meaning “the sixth hour”.  Six hours from dawn would bring you to midday, or noon, when the sun is at its peak in the sky; a good time to get out of the hot sun, in warmer climates, enjoy a hearty lunch and doze off.  I have to admit that when I am at work and enjoy a hearty lunch, I am more inclined to doze off.  That would be the perfect time for a siesta, or maybe a little power nap.

The idea of the power nap has been around for centuries, believe it or not!  The idea is to get just a brief amount of sleep (anywhere from ten to thirty minutes) before your body starts to go into its usual sleep cycle.  Going into the usual sleep cycle without completing it can result in waking up feeling groggy, disoriented, and more sleepy than before the nap.  Sounds like the problem I have with naps, right?  So the idea is to get just the right amount of sleep at the right time.

Artist Salvador Dali practiced a version of power napping.  He would fall asleep sitting in a chair, holding a heavy metal key between his finger and thumb.  The hand holding the key would be positioned over the arm of the chair, above a plate.  As he nodded off, his finger and thumb would relax, eventually releasing the key.   The moment that the key sounded on the plate below, Dali would wake from his slumber.  Simple, but effective!

If you enjoyed learning about Dali’s sleep trick, you might like to read about the sleeping habits of seven other famous men:

The Napping Habits of 8 Famous Men

So where do all these thoughts about napping lead me?  To respond to Tom Hodgkinson’s quote at the introduction, I will count it as a certainty that in paradise, the words “apnea”, “insomnia”, and “narcolepsy” do not exist! 

what would you wish for?

Oooh, this is a tough question.

There are so many possibilities from which to choose, and the only limit is your imagination. It’s a little like, “If you won the lottery, what would you do with the money?”

Immediately I believe that I would be an eager wisher.  I’d say, “Let me at those wishes – see what I can DO!”.  Wishing is a cross between wanting and hoping, and I am prepared to wish away.  After all, who doesn’t want or hope for something?

But then I think about the quality of my wishes and the limited number of wishes and I hesitate.  “I better make these good,” I say, “I only get three.”  And I try to think about how to make the most of my wishing.  I should wish for something that will be lasting, or something that is supremely fulfilling.  What could I want that could be like that?

And then I also consider how I could help others with my wishes.  At first, I think about taking care of the people in my family.  How would I use my wishes to make their lives easier?  Then that thought carries over to caring for friends and coworkers, and then to the community around me.  I find that wishing for others is just as satisfying, if not more so, as wishing for myself.

Now I return to the question of “What?”  What can I wish for that will make the greatest impact?  That’s when I realize that what I wish for is actually the product of wishes fulfilled.  I wish for peace and happiness.  I wish for needs being met.  I wish for things that are not things at all.  What I wonder is, “how?”.  How can such great wishes be fulfilled when there are so many obstacles?

I think I know that wishing is only the first step.  Wishing is an important step.  It means that I’ve identified what I want and hope for.  But it only stays there, at that step, unless I share my vision with others and take action towards manifesting my dream.  It takes thought combined with action, and realization that while nothing lasts forever, the things worth doing and having can make a permanent impact.

So what would you wish for, with your three wishes?

Inspired by Saint Francis, my wishes might look like this:

1. Peace, for everyone.

2. To love and to be loved.

3. To understand and to be understood.

Of course, that’s just a blueprint.  If I want to make those a reality, I’ve got some work to do!

In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter,

and sharing of pleasures.

For in the dew of little things the heart finds its

morning and is refreshed.

                                                                         ~ Kahlil Gibran

Tagged: desires, dreams, fulfillment, goals, making a difference, peace, Saint Francis, vision, wishes ]]> http://simple-pleasures.org/2013/03/25/three-wishes/feed/ 0 aprocyson Wishes Bitten Apple http://simple-pleasures.org/2013/03/24/sixty-seconds-of-happiness/ http://simple-pleasures.org/2013/03/24/sixty-seconds-of-happiness/#comments Mon, 25 Mar 2013 01:10:28 +0000 admin http://simple-pleasures.org/?p=1524 Continue reading »]]> For every minute you are angry

you lose sixty seconds of happiness.

Looking at it that way, you have to wonder why anyone would want to hold onto anger!  Sure, you can’t always avoid or prevent being angry; our bodies are wired to respond in any number of ways to stress and challenge, anger being one of those.  But we can try to limit the time we spend being angry or decrease the frequency of our bouts of anger.  After all, we do possess a logical nature as well as an emotional one.  We can choose to take a step back and examine ourselves and our circumstances.  We can problem-solve.  We can even walk away from what is causing us to feel angry.  We can stop and think and make choices.  We can free ourselves from feelings that weigh us down.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, philosopher and poet, offers us an opportunity to reflect with that quote.  For example, we might just as well wonder about what sixty seconds of happiness feels like.  We can easily describe what anger feels like; it is such a vivid, larger-than-life feeling, often lingering in our memory for far longer than the event that precipitated it.  But happiness, in comparison, seems like a fleeting feeling.  It is hard to hold onto and easier to forget.  Or maybe it is just harder to recognize.

So I started thinking, “What does sixty seconds of happiness feel like to me?”  Here are a few examples from my reflection:

• The first couple bites of something delicious, especially if I made it and it just came out of the oven (like mac and cheese!).  Mmmmm…

• After coming home from work and changing my clothes, the first minute I start to unwind.

• Getting the final Jeopardy question correct, especially if none of the contestants did.

• Receiving a great big hug from my husband.

• The moment I get a good fire started in the wood stove, because that feels like success.

• The moment I solve a particularly challenging crossword puzzle, or the time when I am absorbed in working out a cryptic clue.

• When my husband asks me out (or I ask him out, depending on whose payday it is) to our regular Friday night dinner date, and I tell him I need to check my calendar to see if I am available.  (Which, of course, I am!)

• The first minute of a steamy, hot shower or a soak in the tub – total comfort.

• The aroma of popcorn hitting my nostrils.  Ahhhhh…

• Listening to three-year-old River when she talks about the “restronaut” we will be eating at, or seeing her introduce herself to her new friend Angelina in the play room at Burger King.

• When I make humorous commentary while we’re watching a TV show and my daughter laughs.

• When my cat comes to spend time with me on my lap or puts himself in my arms.

• The moment I notice that it’s snowing.  We haven’t seen much this year, so it’s beautiful to me.

• When my husband takes my hand to hold.  It may seem like a small thing, but it makes me feel loved.

Wow, with just a few thoughts I realize that I have lots of happy times!  I think I may challenge myself to continue reflecting on what makes me feel happy; it’s an affirming exercise.  The items on my list are all small things, but when I add them up, they can amount to hours rather than minutes of happiness.  How easy that can be to overlook!

I am eager to know what sixty seconds of happiness feels like to you, too. 

Your comments, please!

“Honey, what do you know about making hard boiled eggs?”

My husband wanted to boil a few to add to some leftover pickled beet juice.

“Well, I know you can add vinegar to the water – that’s supposed to do something.”  I told him that I could check one of my recipe books.

“Find out fast, because the water’s about to boil and I’m gonna to put them in!”

“You mean, you didn’t put them in the water first?”

Unfortunately, his eggs didn’t turn out quite the way he would have liked – kind of mushy in the middle.  I guess we both have hard boiled eggs before, but not often enough to remember how.  Usually I like to fry or scramble my eggs, or make the occasional omelet. But the hard boiled egg had been a once-a-year affair from childhood and parenting days of some time ago.  Yes, for the purpose of decorating Easter eggs.

Now, in my experience, dyeing Easter eggs was an art project, a science experiment, and a dexterity challenge.   First, my siblings and I, with the help of Mom, would prepare the water/vinegar + dye, which smelled funny.  Not a bad odor, but different.  Bright, deep colors would appear in each cup of liquid, and we couldn’t wait to put our eggs into each one to create masterpieces on canvases of eggshell.

Some of us preferred to keep the colors clean and separate, while others wanted to try a bit of each color.   Of course, it wasn’t the easiest thing to lower the egg into the cup with the little wire holder shaped like a hollow spoon.  I remember dropping a few eggs in my day.  Dropping the eggs might result in cracking eggshell, which meant that dye would seep into the cracks to the egg white.  A second-rate Easter egg, at best.

My grandmother showed us how to decorate eggs with melted wax and dye.  That took more patience and dexterity than we children had, but the results intrigued us.  A artistic and interesting tradition, her eggs made our eggs look like kids’ play (which is what it was anyway).  All of the eggs went into the Easter basket which would be taken to the church to be blessed and then shared at the meal after Easter Sunday Mass.  It was a wonderful tradition that everyone contributed to and got to be a part of.

In the meantime, I have done a little research to find out how to cook the perfect hard boiled egg.  So Honey, please do check with me the next time you attempt this at home!

I’m so lucky – he’s a good egg.

Author Jane O’Connor’s title character likes to dress in extravagant clothing and use big fancy words.  What little girl wouldn’t want to wear a feather boa and a tutu?

The other day one of my little girls wanted to read Fancy Nancy with me at my table.  We looked at the illustrations and checked out the cover.  On the back, we saw that several titles in the Fancy Nancy series were featured, with thumbnail images of the covers displayed.  My student asked me to read to her one of the titles.

“Spectacular…I think I will need to put my glasses on to read this,” I said.

The print was too tiny for me to read without my bifocals.  I guess I’m a little vain, so I often leave them in their case.  This time, however, my eyes were betraying me, and I was going to have to give in.

I put my glasses on and attempted to read the title again.

“Spectacular…Spectacles,” the title read.  We laughed.

How perfectly fitting and quite ironic, don’t you think?

Tagged: bifocals, children's books, eyeglasses, Fancy Nancy, first grade ]]> http://simple-pleasures.org/2013/03/19/spectacular-spectacles/feed/ 0 aprocyson FancyNancy spectacles 2