Saturday, December 10, 2005

Girlie, there are better ways to protest...

My daughter goes to a Montessori school where she is in the equivalent of first grade. This week, because of dawdling, she had homework for the first time. She had to practice some spelling. Being good parents faced with a homework situation for the first time, we made her complete her work before she could watch television. That met with a lot of resistance but in the end, she did her work diligently and was done in no time. The next morning, still feeling bruised, she told us that "ever since I had to bring schoolwork home, my life has been ruined." Poor dear. My husband told her that she should remember how she felt and be sure to get all her work done at school. After she was dropped off, she took her final spelling test and then was supposed to collect up all her spelling work to put it in a folder. Instead, she crumpled it all up between her legs and scissor-stepped around the room telling the teacher to check out her new "buttsie pack." Hello Principal's office. Bad Mom confession: when she told me this story after school, I laughed my fool head off. Then of course I had to tell her that even though I was laughing, it was a terrible, rotten thing to have done at school. Yeah, like that lesson's gonna stick. Sorry Dr. Spock. On the same day, she had to apologize to the teacher and principal for perfuming the entire school. I'm not exactly sure what she was supposed to have been doing, but it involved making fragrant water with perfume and I guess she got carried away and triggered a bunch of people's perfume allergies even two doors down. I know she stank like a bomb had gone off at a perfume counter when we picked her up, and that was after she'd washed her arms. Girlie, Girlie, Girlie.

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