On Fridays at my old job, we could wear jeans. One of my favorite coworkers was a little unorthodox—I was in my late 20s and he was in his early 50s, but we had a good rapport. One day, he stopped by to chat and his fly was down. I was 99% certain I saw pink, hairless man-bits, but…Â
We get more nervous about having to call home about bad behaviors than the kids we call home about. We never know if the person on the other end of the line will be supportive or defensive. Or worse—apathetic.
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