I was at the store the other day and I noticed a man looking at me. This is not an altogether uncommon occurrence, but after a minute it was obvious he wasn’t trying to hit on me, he was trying to figure out how he knew me. Turns out he did know me; I used to be his son's Gymboree teacher. When Dagny was a baby I started taking her to Gymboree class, and that eventually led to me working there. I taught classes on Saturdays for several years. It was challenging and very rewarding, and a lot of fun. There were fringe benefits to the job, like all the wonderful women I worked with, all the parents and kids I met, not to mention the discount at the Gymboree clothing store. (Dagny and Dane were the best dressed kids ever) I talked to the dad for a while and I was touched that he remembered me, and it made me remember how much I enjoyed my time among the gainfully employed.