
With these vintage school supplies, take a trip back in time.
You probably remember your school days with nostalgia if you are between 45 and 65 years old. The classrooms were very different then than they are now. Let’s go back in time and remember certain things that are no longer taught in schools.
The best companion of a musician is an antique chalkboard.
If you loved music, you most likely remember seeing an old chalk holder at the school. Teachers loved these little tools when they had to create music on the whiteboard. Chalk holders are hard to obtain by these days. What other antiquated instruments were utilized in classrooms back then, do you think?
My neighbor pelted my car with eggs because he claimed it obstructed the view of his Halloween decorations

When sleep-deprived mom Genevieve discovers her car covered in eggs, she thinks it’s a prank — until her smug neighbor Brad admits he did it because her car was ruining the view of his elaborate Halloween display. Furious but too exhausted to argue, Genevieve vows to teach him a lesson.
I was bone-tired, the kind of tired where you can barely remember if you’ve brushed your teeth or fed the dog.
My days had become a blur since the twins were born.
Don’t get me wrong, Lily and Lucas were my adorable darlings, but wrangling two newborns mostly by myself was a Herculean task. I hadn’t slept a full night in months. Halloween was just around the corner and the neighborhood buzzed with excitement, but not me.
I could hardly muster the energy to decorate, let alone keep up with the suburban festivities.
Then there was Brad.
The man took Halloween so seriously that you’d think his life depended on it. Every year, he turned his house into a haunted carnival complete with gravestones, dioramas of skeletons, huge jack-o’-lanterns, the works.
And the smug look on his face every time someone complimented him? Please.
His spectacle enamored the entire block. But me? I was too busy trying to keep my eyes open to care about Brad’s ridiculous haunted house.
It was a typical October morning when everything started to unravel.
I shuffled outside with Lily on one hip and Lucas cradled in my arm. I blinked at the sight before me. Somebody had egged my car! Broken bits of shell were stuck in the semi-congealed goo, which was dripping down the windshield like some twisted breakfast special.
“Are you kidding me?” I muttered, staring at the mess.
I had parked in front of Brad’s house the night before. It’s not like I had much choice. The twins’ stroller was impossible to push all the way from down the street, so I’d parked close to our door.
At first, I thought it had to be a prank. But when I noticed the egg splatters reached all the way to Brad’s front porch, my suspicion turned into certainty.
This had Brad written all over it.
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