“Have a good summer, Ms. Marshall!” my students hollered as they poured out of the class and into the sweaty summer hallway. One boy, Aiden, stopped short at the door. “Wait,” he gasped happily, “next year you’ll be Mrs. Whatever-Your-Husband’s-Name-Is, not Ms. Marshall, right?”
“NOOO!!” I shrieked, face flushed with emotion.
Poor Aiden nearly dropped his bright red backpack. “But you’re getting married, aren’t you?” he asked, befuddled.
“Yes,” I bellowed, “but I am NOT changing [...Read More!]