She can’t speak, read or write. But Ashley Meissner is sitting in a regular classroom with regular third-graders. Should other severely disabled children be there, too?
The quest for perfect breasts has taken women many places: to the bottom of a sock drawer, the inside of a padded push-up bra, the sharp edge of a scalpel. One summer night, it brought dozens of women to a Maryland bar best known for the giant martini glass lighting the entrance.
Webkinz are huggable, plush toys with elaborate virtual lives that spotlight how children’s play is changing, moving effortlessly between the real world and the Web. For many children, Webkinz offers a “Velveteen Rabbit” moment: a chance for their real-world toys to come to life and play with their friends.
You’ve seen Britney and Madonna. You’ve seen it on “All My Children.” Now a Howard County high school has seen senior Katherine Pecore and junior Stephanie Haaser lock lips on top of a lunch table. The result? Two-day suspensions, a school protest and 15 minutes of fame.
During 12 hours one Christmas, a group of men and women dressed as Santas hit a half-dozen bars, two strip joints and a sex toys shop. They were chased out of an Internet cafe and accosted by cops. One Santa lost his driver’s license and his credit cards while barhopping. Another was punched in the face by an angry man.
Sometimes, when children want something badly enough, miracles start to happen. Promises of spotless rooms and perfect report cards are made. Letters to Santa are neatly typed and spellchecked. Sullen teenagers take the headphones from their ears to shower their parents with compliments. But kids today don’t stop there. They are employing their high-tech savvy to wow their parents into fulfilling their Christmas wish lists.
