I took The Pony over to Newmentia this morning to pick up his schedule. In years past, there has been a line form two nights before, what with seniors camping out to get the best parking spaces. Yes. CAMPING! Like it's a pre-thug Justin Beiber concert.
We left in time to get there right at 9:00, when registration started. Even after a breakfast stop, we were a few minutes early. I had asked The Pony if he wanted to go around back to the parking lot with me, or get dropped off in front. He decided on the front. We thought there might be a line, and besides, we had driven through a downpour most of the way. I looped through the front drive.
"Look. There's no line! I'll get out in front anyway."
By the time I parked and started for the back door, The Pony was there to greet me with a paper in hand. "We have to fill this out before I can get a locker." He was antsy. The last people get lockers way down at the end of the hall. Of course, he should have filled out that form by himself. But he said, "I don't have a pencil." Like my room is bereft of writing instruments. I just did it myself for speed purposes. The Pony hates to write by hand with a passion. Off he went for his locker assignment and schedule.
"My locker is down by Mrs. Nemesis's room."
"What? That's halfway down the hall! Were there a lot of kids ahead of you?"
"No. And I saw when she wrote down my name by the locker that the two before me and the two after me were empty. And one girl who is in trade school got one WAY down by the doors."
Well. I guess there's neither rhyme nor reason to assigning lockers. The Pony was offered a parking space, but he politely declined. "No reason to take up a spot that a real driver could be using all year."
He did spot a problem with his schedule. I know he's smart, but no junior should have three hours of math, three hours of science, and one hour of psychology. I know I went to straighten this out on that day I had to go in and get my grades in order at the end of the year. I saw it put into the computer. I got a fresh printout. But there he was, a Pony without a Language. We switched him over today to Honors Language III in place of Anatomy. We'll see if it sticks until the first day.
Other than that little glitch, The Pony is happy with his schedule, and rarin' to go to school. He has his first three classes down at my best ol' ex-teaching buddy Mabel's end of the hall, then two hours with Arch Nemesis, then his final class, a two-hour Honors Geometry/Trigonometry back down in Mabel Land. He also has a semester credit of Personal Finance that he will be taking by independent study after school. Staff thinks it will take him about two weeks to finish it. He already told the counselor that he wants to begin on the first Monday after school starts.
The school year is almost over already.
No pottery class? No home ec class? It sounds like The Pony thinks school ahould be nonstop rigorous book learnin'.
ReplyDeleteDidn't you teach him no better?
Sioux,
ReplyDeleteI tried to learn him best I could. But The Pony has a thirst for knowledge. In fact, he yearns for it. Kind of like Charlene Frazier.