That’s . . . My Boy (We Need To Talk About The Downsides Of Comedy, Son, And SOON!)

Today my son had a substitute teacher in his virtual class, and early on she had struggled with pronouncing his name to his kid satisfaction, so the second time she called on him she laughingly told him she was just going to call him “Mister Alan”.

Without missing a beat, my son grinned and retorted, “That’s just ‘Mister’ to you!”

Fortunately, his teacher thought it was funny, and when I (instantly) confronted him over it, his reasoning was, essentially, “She set me up for it.  I pretty much had to!”

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With That Said, Let’s Talk About The Importance Of Filters, Son

I’ve decided.  If my son’s school is going to keep asking him his opinion on what he thought of class that day, they deserve his unfiltered opinion.

Back To School 2018

Even though actual classes don’t start for us until tomorrow, you can feel the cloud over this house today.

I don’t mind that my son doesn’t love school; I didn’t exactly love it myself at his age.  Heck, for that matter I don’t exactly love it now, and I have direct experience to support my belief in the value of a good education!

Time To Do Some Walking

Well . . . we made it.  There was never any real doubt that we would, but it’s been a long year, and yesterday I was feeling every last second of it.

Still . . . any year you can walk away from is a good one, and all that.

School’s out for summer.

I Expect This Lesson Will Be Revisited . . . Again

Today begins the second half of my son’s school year.  Today’s lesson:  Time spent figuring a problem out gives full credit, time spent fussing about the problem gives none.

It’s A Work In Progress . . . For Both Of Us

Currently my son is struggling with the concept of paying attention in class.  He understands perfectly that there are times that he needs to be paying attention “one hundred percent,” but he’s still a little fuzzy on exactly when he needs to do that.

School Starts Here Today, So I Just Keep Telling Myself This

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of school, I will fear no fussing . . .

Thanks For Using Me As Your Emotional Proxy There, Son

The school year is coming to an end soon, and I think my son is going to miss his virtual school teacher, but he doesn’t want to admit it.

I came to this conclusion after leaving class briefly to get myself a glass of water, only to come back to hear his teacher saying, “Oh, L., I’m going to miss you guys too!”

Suspicious at the timing (He’d type his every thought into the chat box if I let him, so I usually ask him what he’s typing as soon as I hear the first keystrokes, and this wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken advantage of any lapse of my attention), I looked over his shoulder to see what he had typed in my brief absence:

“My dad is really going to miss you!”

Um . . .

Overheard in my son’s class today:

“Which word best completes this sentence?  Let’s all play?  Let’s please play? Or let’s for play?”

I . . . Can See That

Doing homework is like paying bills . . . just without the money.

– My son L., six-years old at the time