Every document at this school is written in Calibri. There are words and tones that sometimes do not fit the bill of this clean, neat font. Such as voicing concerns to one childs parent that his constant...er, playing with his junk should be addressed at home, and is causing a ruccus amongst the masses. Certainly amongst me, while he sits in the office and wiggles his pickle around through his gym shorts.
As I penned, selected all, and went dutifully through the selection of fonts in Word, the notion that perhaps no font can mask the embarrasment that the affluent parents of this naughty, naughty little boy will undoubtedly feel.
The prescribed course of action-- A letter home in clean neat Calibri to expose a dirty habit. BUT, little boys will be little boys. Shaming a child for natural, inherent curiosity; all apart of the American brand of sexuality (subtle! embarrasing! oh the shame! dark! and perverse!). How easily I could delete the words and save little Alexander from the dark path of cross dressing fetishes and
asphyxiation masturbation which will inevitably be the end of him. Mummy and daddy wouldn't have to send him to therapy for a perfectly normal curiosity.
Orders are orders, and I am the office bitch so I do as I'm told. Clean, neat, crisp Calibri. I dutifully hand the letter to the little tyke.
"Am I going to be in real bad trouble?" He looks up at me with woeful, bambi eyes. The poor bastard.
"Just do it in the bathroom next time buddy..."
Who says you can't change the world a little bit everyday?
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