No Future Biologist Here

I’m not awake enough yet this morning, but because I did not get up early, I started my day with children talking to me.  Incessantly.  It’s a difficult way to begin a morning.

Yesterday, my 4 middle kids, who participate in a twice-monthly co-op, were fortunate enough to have somebody else lead them through a worm dissection.  This would never ever happen in my home with my assistance.  Fritz is required to dissect a worm this year for biology, and he will, but he will either do it independently or with the help of his father, not me.  Mary, especially, really seemed to enjoy the process and she looked pretty cute there with her safety goggles on and with a probe jabbed into the interior of the largest earthworm ever.  Some company must raise earthworms for science and put steroids in the soil.

This morning, before my second cup of coffee was drunk, Mary told me that she was not going to go to college.  I asked why, even though I really wished she would go bother her sisters and leave me to drink in peace.  I wasn’t sure what her reasoning was, but I figured that perhaps I could use a housekeeper in my old age, so maybe her not going off to college could work for me.

“Because in college you have to dissect a dog and a cat.”

I told her: “I went to college and I never dissected a dog or a cat.”

“That was a long time ago,” she replied.

Yes, aaaaages ago…and standards have changed so much that now all students must rip apart household pets even if all they want is a degree in English.

I didn’t bother to explain the differences between different programs of study.  I’m just going to make sure she gets lots of practical experience in how to properly scrub floors and sanitize toilets.

Crazy Conversations

I allowed Mary to look at the crayons I bought her for kindergarten.  But, no, I told her, she may not use them yet.  She has to wait until we start school.

So there she is, sighing and smiling over the big, beautiful box of neatly sharpened colorful Crayolas – do you remember what that was like? – and she says, “Oh, I can’t wait to go to school!”

I noted her interesting word choice, but merely agreed with an “mmm.”

“I suppose I’ll make lots of new friends,” she said, with a sideways look at me.

“Mary,” I said, “Where did Fritz go to kindergarten?”

“I don’t know,” she said.  And since she hadn’t even been born, I guess it was a rather silly question.

“Where did Peter go to kindergarten?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she persisted in trying to prove her ignorance on such matters.

“I’m sorry, honey,” I said, gently.  “We’re a homeschool family.  You’ll do kindergarten right there at the dining room table.”