You Are Not Excused
I didn’t lie last Thursday when I told you that Mike and/or Ryan would appear today. There they are. I might have mislead you slightly into thinking that the next comic would center around one of them. But when have I ever made guarantees? Sometimes we don’t make the comic, the comic makes us.
When I was a kid I would say pretty much anything to get out of school. That might have been because almost nothing worked. My mother was a teacher, and she was on to me from Day 1. And I was good. Ferris Bueller good. That is if Ferris Bueller had sat at home and played video games all day instead of stealing a car and attending art galleries and baseball games.
It wasn’t exactly that long ago that I was in school, so I still remember well enough to recognize when other people’s children try to pull this on me. “My head hurts.” “My tummy hurts.” “I’m bleeding profusely.” Please. I wasn’t born yesterday. And I wasn’t born 100 years ago either. I know what’s going on.