Angel laughed again at the end of the recollection. “See. You always did things your way, and never backed down.”
“Lot of good it did when we got the Play-Doh taken away from us because I made green poop and a p***s. The milk carton…”
“Lunch for two,” Angel said.
“In the classroom, because I threw an orange across the cafeteria to Chester Adamson. It was a punishment, not a privilege.”
“It’s all how you look at things. Perspective.” Angel gave me three quick kisses. “For instance, we saw licking the beaters as foreplay several years before the main event. Mrs. Byrd and the rest of our class saw it as the start of a food fight.”
“True, which I took full responsibility for.”
“Naturally.”
“And Mrs. Byrd believed it was all my fault.”
“Naturally.”
“I still see that as a great memory,”
