I take my high school son out of school. He stretched out heavily last summer, grew up with his dad, and now his vortex head, rising above his classmates, is well seen from afar.
I see my son standing surrounded by three girls and telling them something fascinating. They listen to him fascinated and even, in the literal sense of the word, open their mouths. Seeing my car, the son said goodbye to his listeners and approached me.
“Son,” I ask him, “why are your interlocutors not in school shape?”
They are teachers!