Yesterday was a busy busy day. Work from sun up to sun down (insofar as you define "sun up" as "piercing the mild cloud cover around ten in the morning) and then a delicious child_lit dinner at Gabriela's near Central Park with assorted luminaries. Excuses excuses. What I'm trying to say is that I didn't have much in a way of time to do my normal blog rounds. As it stands, I'm reduced to reporting on some articles of local color.
Behold, then, the following first sentence: "Officials at a New York City middle school have pulled three books for sixth-graders that give instructions on French kissing and homosexuality."
Oh. It gets better.
Gladys Martinez wrote a letter to her son's teacher after hearing him talk about "First French Kiss," which describes a teen's bumbling make-out session.Oh, Queens. You adorable little borough, you. Stop giving me reasons not to visit.
"I mean, he shouldn't be sheltered from the world but if he's going to learn that stuff it shouldn't be at school," Martinez said.