On a daily basis, I am groped, pawed, poked, grabbed, pinched and generally mauled from the literal first second I step into the room to the last child leaving. Don't get me wrong, a hug is nice, but when a little boy comes over and stretches his hands up in an attempt to be picked up, they don't end up on my shoulders. Personal space is not in their vocabulary and I am apparently a moving theme park ride.
This is an older comic I drew. It's a little crude and Colby didn't help me clean it up. Sorry.
