For Better or For Worse by Lynn Johnston for September 17, 2023

From what I keep hearing, only people older than this comic can read todays comic. Sad.

I would be a little worried about lumps moving in the mattress that are no longer moving. I would also be a little worried that Michael did not say one word about classes or his teachers or the workload.

Mother used to claim that I must be washing the white and coloured clothes together. Then she visited and discovered what hard water can do.

I remember those days. Mystery meat for dinner. My roommate snoring…loudly. taking a shower and finding uh, never mind. Getting myself up in the morning without my mother calling me 20 times. I loved it.

That’s the fanciest written capital “I” I’ve ever seen.

Huh? Did the first sign on the machine read, “Don’t sit on our kick machines”?

Kick Machines?

Here in Canada we used to call them ‘top loading washing machines’. Come to think of it we still do.

I had a favorite shirt stolen from the laundry room. After that, I kept a close eye on my laundry.

I have a granddaughter in 7th grade and she was never taught cursive in school. :(

Neither of my girls have ever lost anything in their campus’ laundry rooms. There is also a cool new app that both colleges have (I guess most do now) where your phone will be “pinged” when a machine is available & when your wash is done.

His mom knows how to “read between the lines.” :D

Did he get his clothes stolen while writing his letter?

Mom’s are great at reading between the lines…lol

Mike’s doing laundry already? He just got there.

If it’s a little stinky, just hit it with the AXE spray.

I can read cursive, I just don’t like to use it. I always print everything.

College version of Hello Muddah, Hello Fuddah by Alan Sherman.

Those of us who went to university, and those of us who are parents, can see both sides of that letter. It is what Mike DOESN’T say, that Mom reads perfectly

ah what a breath of fresh scribbles! Love being able to read both the printed and the cursive. To bad our kiddos have not been taught the skills we have.

I wonder if computers can read cursive. I did a search for a trailer number on my computer, and it found it on a hand written pay sheet I use to compare with my paystub. My computer can read my hand writing. I was surprised.

I remember needing to keep my eye on the drier or someone would come along and take my clothes out before they were dry in order to put theirs in it. I didn’t mind if they took them out when they were dry and just left them in a cart or something, but they were trying to dry their clothes on my quarters.

Moms can read between the lines.

According to Michael’s letter, he mentions “Lifebuoy” soap.. They have this soap yet? Just curious.

At least he writes….

Ah yes, Ellie reading between the lines, or in this case, picking out the letters that spell “He Misses Us.”

I taught two of my granddaughters to read cursive. It’s become a secret code between them.

I can’t remember the last time that I wrote a real letter. I may have been Michael’s age.

In college, as in life, you’re surrounded by a bunch of petty thieves. I used to get pens and pencils with my name on it, and they’d still get stolen—-and out in the work force, too, not at school.

Michael’s handwriting sure is girly.

the ‘lumps’ are moving ?? YIKES ! >

For all the comments about today’s kids not learning cursive: [Tl;Dr] Cursive is still taught (maybe not where you live), but the time we used to spend practicing cursive as kids today is now spent on keyboarding skills and writing prompts (essays).

They’re also learning how to type paragraphs and essays (writing prompts, in today’s lingo) fluently enough to pass all those lovely ( /s ) high-stakes state tests. In my state, buy the end of 4th-5th grades, the kids are expected to be able to respond to a writing prompt with two pages typed within the time limit on the state tests.

I recently came across a couple of essays written by my dad his first year in college as an engineering student (during WWII). They were a handwritten page, maybe two. When I was in HS, we had to write in-class, impromptu essays of at least two handwritten pages – with footnotes – based on what we were reading in English. Compare that with the level and quality of writing that today’s students are expected to do in elementary school.

That’s why you don’t see kids fluent in cursive. There is little time to teach it, let alone practice the skill. We encourage grandparents to practice cursive with them if they want. However, even in my last year of teaching (2019-20), we were still explaining to families that the subject of Writing did not mean practicing cursive,

The lesson has ended. Go in peace.

A good one could be where Elly is looking for a new job, only to be told by the unemployment office her only chance at getting another job is a college diploma. Meanwhile, at college, Michael sees a new classmate: his own mother!

A good cursive reference on The Simpsons, which this strip has taken “inspiration” from:

Teacher begins lesson. He writes on the blackboard in cursive

Blackboard: Quentin and Tammy went to the zoo on Sunday.

Teacher: Now class, copy this and underline all nouns. Bart, would you read it aloud?

Bart Simpson{squinting}: 2-ent-in…ond…Jommy….

Teacher pulls Bart aside in private

Teacher: So you never learned cursive?

Bart: I know hell, fuc..

Teacher{interupting}: The script! Cursive is a form of handwriting. Do you know the multiplication tables or long division?

Bart: I know of them,

have your college students spayed or neutered (pets also)

The curse of cursive. A nice fountain pen, a set of interchangeable nibs, good paper (but not too good … the ink won’t dry quickly) and “Bob’s your uncle!”

When son as at campus, I was happy to have him text me a funny meme every few days. That was all I needed – to know he is ok and alive. Never pressed for more. A letter or email would be beyond comprehension. My mom used to have me call her weekly.

I was able to trust people. They’d take my stuff out if it was through but no one stole anything. I couldn’t just sit there all day.

The first three or four weeks I lived in the dorm I would bring a textbook to the laundry room with me and stand around doing assigned readings while the washer and dryer ran. This was of course because I didn’t trust that my clothes would be there when I got back if I left. I quickly got out of this habit and realized my stuff would be fine. If the laundry room were particularly busy and I wasn’t back by the time my machine had finished running, someone would likely have taken out my clothes and set them on a nearby shelf (and I did the same to others so I’m not going to lodge any pious complaints here) but I don’t remember anything ever getting lost, much less stolen.

Even though I was too immature to go away to college, Atlanta was a nice experience!

Elly feels like she has no purpose in being a mom because Michael doesn’t wear a diaper and ate his most recent meal without being spoonfed.

Dear mom and dad… just here, with my deformed head..