Green Ink Regret

There are some things you just can't learn until you've learnt it for yourself.
Like washing new flannelette sheets before you sleep on them, otherwise they pill all over everything, or cooking chickpeas for a lot longer than forty five minutes otherwise your hommus is hardly even edible.
Today I learnt not to write in green ink.
It's not that it's necessarily a bad thing, it just makes your writing all the more distinguishable amongst the sea of black biros. It's awkward when you're identified by your tutor as 'Green ink, why did you write this'.
Uni went back today, I was a little bit excited. I woke up earlier than my alarm, cleaned my kitchen, made a very nourishing banana orange kiwi apple juice, chopped carrot sticks in preparation of lunch and even arrived at the train station ten minutes before the train did.
Talk about keen beans.
The overabundance of enthusiasm I possess is usually counteracted with my lack of preparation. This includes writing implements and paper supplies, integral to your learning day I have been lead to assume. I found a lonely green pen in the bottom of my bag, and it served me well during my studio lesson. I wasn't aware that our answers would be distributed and critiqued by the class and tutor.
I'll be packing a less noticeable pen from now on

I'm not sure if Monday's is Mumdays, but there was an awful lot of dad's out doing the grocery shopping with their kids.
I saw one father let his child struggle for longer than needed over the word frankfurt. The poor kid was nearly there, he just needed a bit of a hand. Another kid mentioned something about 'that driver's crazy' to which his dad replied 'you drive me crazy'.
My favourite of the day though was definitely Alex. This kid was yelling out 'Tiger' from the top of the aisle before roaring his way down the lanes. He was eventually told 'that's probably enough, Alex. We don't need tigers in the shops'.

I don't know what he was talking about. I love shop-tigers.