In lieu of prepping for and heading out to the interview which I was supposed to have today, I am of course accomplishing all sorts of necessary tasks around the house. The place is spotless; the laundry is done; the driveway is shovelled; and I have alphabetized everyone’s sock drawers.
Aaaaaaaahahahahhaaha! Don’t you love it when I’m ridiculous? I might’ve fooled everyone, too, if I hadn’t thrown in the obvious lie about the laundry being done. That’s me, just straying a wee bit over the top and causing the entire story to collapse. Alas.
Okay, what I’ve actually been doing today is exercising this lovely brain of mine, puzzling through many of the pressing issues of our time. I have so. Shut up.
Every parent believes their child(ren) to be of above-average intelligence, it seems. I’ve yet to meet the parent of a dim-bulb child who smiles ruefully and admits, “We love him very much, but, well, there’s nothing wrong with with working at McDonald’s.” Living in a town with a so-called “exceptional” school system only magnifies the party line of every child being gifted and blah blah blah. At the same time, however, alhough no one will admit to having a *gasp!* simply average child, our school system has eliminated almost all tracking in the name of No Child Left Behind (or, as I like to call it, No Stupid Child’s Parents Pissed Off).
So when I found the official-looking letter in Chickadee’s bag that proudly proclaimed she’d been selected to participate in a “mathematics enrichment program,” I was surprised. I honestly didn’t know they still did stuff like that. It was a pleasant surprise, to say the least, and the letter didn’t say it would self-destruct in fifteen seconds or anything. Nor did it promise that terrible luck would befall my entire family if I breathed a word of this to anyone. All good, right?
Well, sort of. As I read on, I discovered that this program involves a half an hour a week for… four weeks. Wow. Two whole hours above and beyond the cookie-cutter curriculum! I’m all atwitter. Oh, wait. No I’m not. That’s just me giggling. Sure, I’m not expecting differential equations in first grade (unlike most parents, I have a reasonable view of my child’s abilities… she won’t be ready for those until third grade, I think) (that’s called humor, folks), but what exactly is she going to learn in two hours that changes her life?
Maybe my expectations are unreasonable. But in my typical glass-half-empty way, I’m more annoyed by this program than I would be if she was just left to the usual “let’s cater to the lowest common denominator” agenda. And at the same time, I know that someone, somewhere, is right now complaining that their child wasn’t selected for this program. And to that parent I just want to say… yes, it’s true: these two hours are what shall separate the Ivy Leaguers from the Community College-bound. At least, that’s totally what I’m planning to tell myself when Chickadee comes home those days and her answer to, “How was school today?” is still, “It was boring.”
Whew. Thanks for letting me get that off my chest.
Oh, did I say “issueS?” Okay, yes; the math enrichment wasn’t the only thing I was thinking about today.
I was also wondering whether wanting to cover my bed in crispy bacon and roll around in it, naked, is weird. In that same vein, I briefly wondered if a little much-needed male companionship might cause my love of pork fat to diminish, somewhat. Unable to puzzle out either answer, I just ate the bacon while muttering “Mmmmmm… hogfat,” ala Homer Simpson.