Yesterday, I stopped by to pick up my daughter from a friend’s house. I had given her some words to look up in the dictionary. Her assignment was to find the word in the dictionary, write its page number she found it on and a quick definition. That’s sounds fairly easy, right? WRONG! To a reluctant fourth grader, I just assigned her to climb Mt. Rushmore, free-hand!
Back to that in a moment.
I walk in the door and I see my daughter gathering her things. It was then I noticed her hair. My daughter’s hair goes down her back and is just about to touch her buttocks if it grows much more. She often pulls it up. Let me tell you…she got creative!
Every item she had in her pencil box was in her hair! I couldn’t stop laughing. I’ve never seen anyone do this. My friend hadn’t seen her do it and the expression on his face was priceless. I told her, “don’t get in the car. I NEED a picture of this”; knowing I just found my next blog post.
We begin home and that’s when I find out she didn’t do her dictionary terms. Well, that became her first order of business upon arrival at the house. I should have gotten out the climbing gear for that mole-hill that she made into a mountain. “It’s too hard! Who needs to learn how to use a dictionary anyway?” SLAM! That would be the dictionary.
*EXASPERATED MOTHERLY SIGH*
“Ok, put it down, for now. I’ll have you work on something else”.
“Mom, we need to talk.” That’s really code for….I’m not happy and I’m about to tell you why.
“Ok, let’s talk. What’s on your mind?”
“Mom. You should just accept the fact I’m going to be a failure. I’m ok with it. I’ll live a life of crime. I’ll go to prison, get released, steal something and go back to prison. That will be my life.”
Ah, my over-dramatic daughter. Have I expressed how fun nine year-olds can be?
I assured her that wouldn’t be the case. She wasn’t cut out for prison. I then offered to switch her to a language program to work on reading and comprehension. Oh, that went over like a lead balloon. But guess what, she did it anyway.
My princess settled in and started the computer work. She didn’t do half bad. I sat with her while she read aloud. She stopped during her reading, looked at me and said, “I’m sorry for my behavior. You know, girls and puberty, right?”
Heaven help me! I bit my lip to stifle a laugh, as she was dead serious. I agreed she was hormonal or something and the rest of the evening went off without a hitch.
My husband wanted a little girl. I warned him that boys were A LOT easier. He really didn’t know what he was asking for, as this is his first child. There’s a reason they say to be careful what you wish for. This child is going to give both of us a run for our money. I only hope she gets a well-paying acting job because she’s got talent for drama!