While assessing a Kindergartener’s math skills, I pull out some images of analog and digital clocks.
Kid: “Oh my gosh don’t even ask me this, I am an EXPERT on clocks. I know everything. I know the most about clocks.”
Me: “Ok, great! But let’s just double check.” <show a digital clock that says 7:30>
Kid: “Seventy-three o’clock.” (leans back, crosses arms, nods smugly) “I told you I’m the best at clocks.”
So…no, Trump Jr. You are very very bad at clocks.
(Part of the Ebola Mom series)
Mom (whispering before kid enters room): “So…[kid] didn’t get to do the homework you left him last week because he was so upset about the election results, he could barely do anything for days.”
Me: “Oh my gosh that’s terrible and so sad! It’s honestly so painful and disturbing to me that a kid his age would be so affected by this. The whole thing is just so awful. Obviously don’t worry about the homework, I completely understand.”
Mom: “Thank you, I knew you would.”
(Mom leaves, kid enters)
Me: “So like I just told your mom, don’t worry about the homework. I completely understand that you were upset about the election.”
Kid: “What election?”
Kid: “Who are you voting for?”
Me: “I’m not sure I can say. But I can tell you that I am voting for the candidate who, in my opinion, is the most qualified person, is a decent human being, and will promote kindness and unity in this country rather than hatefully dividing us.”
Kid: “So…Hillary Clinton.”
<silence>
Kid: “I’m not an idiot.”
Kid: “My dad doesn’t even want to vote. He thinks his vote doesn’t matter.”
Me: “Really? I think every vote matters!”
Kid: “If he votes he’s going to vote for Jill Stein.”
Oh, so he’s CHOOSING to not matter.
Got it.
The exasperating thing about tutoring young children for a living is that I now have an extensive collection of games and toys for teaching, and they all come with lots of parts and gadgets, so I constantly find myself having to say, “Ok, it’s time to refocus, please stop fiddling with the toys now. Right now, please.”
And then Eric puts down the toy and I can finally place it in my work bag.
Me: “Do you know the name of the bird in the picture?”
Kid: “No.”
Me: “Ok, let’s try chunking the word to make it easier to sound out. You’ll see that when you break up the word, it isn’t so big and scary. It’s all smaller words you can figure out and then blend together.” (covering up end of word) “Try saying this first part alone.”
Kid (concentrating very hard): “C-O-CK…C-ooooock…C-OCK!! COCK! COCK!!!”
Me: “That’s right! Cock!”
And that’s when her dad walked in.
Kid: “My parents are not voting for Trump. They think he’s a dick…”
Me: “Woah woah woah! Ok, I can’t let you use language like that with me, even if your parents let you.”
Kid (shrugging): “Ok. It’s really not a big deal. It’s not even a bad word.”
Me (having a sudden realization): “Ohhhh, I cut you off. You were going to say dictator!”
Kid: <laughs, returns to his math worksheet>
(20 seconds later)
Kid: “No. I was just saying ‘dick.'”
Oh.
(continuation of I’m Sorry, Kids )
“Oh my god, EYEBALLS!!! COOL!!!”
— every trick-or-treater. Because lucky for me, kids are dumb.
Kid: “Do you like my Bernie Sanders costume?!”
Me: “Oh my goodness I love love LOVE it! And you know what my favorite part about it is? That it is NOT Donald Trump!”
“Thanks a lot.” — Kid’s brother, who I did not see standing there, dressed as Trump.
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