Both Hillbilly boys went to a math competition today at the local junior college. It's true. My boys are mathletes. And they don't even think there's anything wrong with that. They are proud, in fact, to represent Basementia and Newmentia in the numbers game. The Pony was downright excited. #1 was more interested in having lunch at a local Mexican restaurant.
The mathletes returned before school was out. Informants in my 7th hour class tipped me off that #1 had taken First Place in the small schools division for 11th grade, and The Pony had earned Second Place for 8th grade.
The Pony stood by my room as I returned from parking lot duty after school. He had a medal around his neck, and was waving his arms wildly. So uncharacteristic of him. I walked up the long hall with Mr. Principal, having just bent his ear about a parking lot faux pas. "It looks like he's showing off his medal." Of course there was a story behind that.
Last year, The Pony tied for Second Place. The other kid got the medal. The college promised to send one to The Pony, but they left it out of the shipment with certificates. So his teacher had to call and remind them again. A medal three weeks late is still a medal, but the fun of showing it off has pretty much dissipated.
This year, The Pony tied again. When the names were announced, he made sure he was not late out of the starting gate. He galloped down the steps to the podium. "I nearly fell down five times! I wanted to make sure I got the medal!" According to #1, the presenter then announced that there was no need to rush to get the awards.
#1 was not wearing his medal. He did not even tell me that he'd won until I was standing outside inhaling auto exhaust. He walked past me with his medal folded up in his left hand. Not in his pocket, mind you. Not around his neck. But in his hand. Still visible, but not flaunted and not stashed away out of sight. I'm pretty sure that's one of the unwritten rules of seventeen-year-old males.
The sponsors loaded the 40 kids on the bus and hauled them about a mile down the road for the noon meal. #1 lunched on his usual Mexican meal of $12 nachos. He and his cronies hang out there a lot. I think they might have been made honorary Mexicans or something. The Pony reported that he ate some kind of chicken, and a couple bites of rice. My little Pony is growing up. That makes four foods he will eat now.
A good day was had by all. Newmentia won the small schools division, and Basementia brought home second place. Yet another reason why I put my boys in MY school, not the one in the district where we live.