Substitutes get a bad name. When I was a kid, there was a substitute teacher at my elementary school that all the kids hated. Her name was Mrs. Smith, but everyone called her Mrs. Fishlips. Because, well, she was quite unattractive and had a mouth that closely resembled a fish. Sometimes the material presents itself.
I was terrified of Mrs. Fishlips. She was mean, and she yelled. Whenever I walked into my classroom and saw her, I was instantly sick with anxiety. Physically ill, and on the verge of tears until the clock mercifully struck 3:30.
I didn’t want Mrs. Fishlips. I wanted my teacher. She was a poor substitute for the real thing.
I have a similar relationship with food. Continue reading “Redeeming Substitutes”