Except I spent it at
school, from 7:20 until 3:00, what with taking The Pony to Newmentia to do his tutoring that
is a requirement for Missouri’s A+ program, which is like free tuition for kids
who meet the tutoring and attendance and grade criteria. Of course, since The
Pony will probably end up at the engineering college where the #1 son goes, it
won’t do him a darn bit of good, because they don’t honor that program. Still.
He could end up living in my basement and going to the junior college where I
went. So we’re coving the bases. He must have 50 hours of tutoring, and is
there from 8:00 until 3:00, but can only count five hours per day. Isn’t THAT a
rip-off? I suppose it has something to do with that ridiculous quality time, or
time on task. What kind of way is that to give away free tuition?
So…we all know that
The Pony doesn’t really have any interest in helping people, even rescuing
those who might be trapped in a house by a downed tree during a storm. It’s
right there in black and white on his interest inventory for the ACT. He views
this commitment as torture, and was hoping to get assigned to one of the older
classes, like 5th grade, or maybe 4th. In fact, he wanted
to be there at the office by 7:30 yesterday to get his pick. You know where
this is headed, right?
The Pony was assigned
to kindergarten. He said there were only four high school kids there to do
their tutoring, but that they had to leave room in the program for those who
come after their morning summer school class at the high school.
“I chose Mrs. Blank,
because I remember her, and she’s okay. I did NOT want Mrs. Exclamation,
because she is a taskmaster! She had her kid running all over the place on errands.
I knew it would be like that.”
Apparently, The Pony
got to be the hero, because at the end of the day, Mrs. Blank sent him out to
look for a lost coat on the playground. He found it in the 1st grade
hall, where another kid had dropped it. Oh, and Mrs. Blank bought him a soda.
They have their own soda fountain in that building. Can you believe it? Sure,
it’s not as good as a margarita machine, but it will do. The Pony plans to pay
her back today.
“So, did you get to play with them at recess?”
“No. We went out three
times, but my job was to stand by this thing they’re not allowed on. During the
first graders’ third recess, I saw other teachers letting their kids on it. I
guess they just gave up, or they didn’t care anymore at the end of the day.”
“Maybe the older kids are allowed on it.”
“Maybe.”
“So what did you do inside?”
Let the record show
that his response started with a heavy sigh. “I helped kids use the computer.
Like, the mouse. THEY DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!”
“Um. They’re babies! They have not been to school yet.”
“Well, when I was that
age, I knew how to use a computer.”
“Yes. And your brother was building them. But this might be the first
computer some of these kids have been on.”
“Yeah. I guess.”
According to Farmer H this
morning, The Pony told him he HATES working with the little kids.
“He’s got nine more days. He needs to get over it.”
“I wish I only had
nine more days. I hate working with these people.”
Like father, like son.
You know The Pony didn’t get that attitude from Mrs. HM…
Perhaps The Pony needs to walk around at the school where he's doing the A+ work, muttering under his breath in a nonstop manner. He can let certain key phrases be audible, so they will overhead and put an end to this torture.
ReplyDeleteI wonder what those phrases might be?
My granddaughter is tutoring and she likes it. She likes to help people, though. She was very upset with one of her grades, she got a B! Bet it won't happen again. She is so driven and is only 14. She will be 15 in October. I got married when I was 15! My goal was to get married and produce babies.
ReplyDeleteSioux,
ReplyDeleteWe don't need a pacing Pony or any muttering. As you recall, he's the one who uttered, "Nellie says hello," when we found the goat skull in the front yard after Farmer H put her out of her misery.
*****
Kathy,
See, that's the key! She LIKES to help people. I'd say you, too, were driven at 15.