Old in Some Ways
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One of my fourth graders asked my teacher’s assistant, "How old are you, Mrs. Glass?"
"You should never ask an adult’s age," I broke in.
"That’s okay," Harriett said smiling. "I’m fifty."
"Wow, you don’t look that old," the boy said. I was breathing a sigh of relief when another child chimed in, "Parts of her do."
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