He also uses the opportunity to practice the Spanish he’s been learning for the last few months. He’s doing well for someone with his little bit o... training, but he’s not good enough with his pronunciation or syntax to not accidentally create some funny sentences. The other kids who speak Spanish tease him about his mistakes while they all respect the way he accepts their corrections then works to correct his errors without getting angry with them for correcting him. He makes several new. It wasn’t anything special, just a day to hang out and enjoy each other. Knowing that it was a nice day and the evening was expected to be warm I told him I’d pick him up. My dad has an old Corvette, it’s a black 1980 5-speed with T-tops, and I wanted to take it out. Of course my dad didn’t mind letting me take it out, because he knows I’ll probably spend the day washing and waxing it to get it ready. I don’t tell my dad, but there’s something very hot about getting dirty and sweating cleaning. They hurt terribly if I don't use the breast pump, but the relief never seems to last very long. And if I hear a baby cry, in a supermarket or something, they just *flood*. I wear this, you know, nursing bra to absorb some of it, but the milk just floods in spite of it and my whole front is sopping wet and I have to go right home and shower and change.Or maybe the biggest thing is the sweat. I sweat like a pig all the time, now, unless it's very cold. I mean, just look at me right now, I'm. Mr.C, was my American history teacher. His first name Carl and last name Fernan. I absolutely hated Mr.C, but had heart for him way down deep inside. I knew he was a good man, I had just hate him because he was always so sarcastic. He wanted a friendly relationship between all his students but still picked on all them. For me, I was always getting picked on. You see, Mr.C is hispanic, I'm country. So, Mr.C is always making fun of my country accent. I always want to get back at him but I don't.