My kids are pretty responsible for being so young. At 5 and 7, they are both on top of their homework. Most days my son is up before I am (which is no small feat as I’m usually up before 6:30). I’ll find him half-asleep in the kitchen, his homemade books spread out on top of the table, reading out loud the one due that day.
Maitane is not as “on it” as her brother, but she’s only five. It was 20 minutes before we had to leave the house, she wasn’t dressed, and her hair looked like she just took her fingers out of the power outlet. But she did remember she had homework to do. I sigh, take a breath, stop in the middle of this email I’m trying to write in Basque (I have to concentrate extra hard when I write in Basque), and read her the instructions. I say, Maitane, you have to think of a work that starts with a “T”, and then make a drawing. (My kids go to a Dual Language school, which means they learn both in English and Spanish.)
So I go back to my email for a couple of minutes, then I look over my laptop to check on her progress. I seriously thought I was going to die of laughter. She had written “TETA” and drawn a perfectly nice boob with a great nipple-looking circle in the middle. I was so proud! We are doing such a great job educating our kids!
I’m a bit disappointed at myself, though. Fourteen years ago I’d have not thought for a split second there was anything wrong with my 5-year old turning in this drawing to her teacher. It’s a word, it starts with a “T”, and we all have breasts. But after spending almost half of my life in the US, apparently I’ve started to waver. I’m pretty sure I’d have gotten a call from the school, or my daughter would have had to hear about the inappropriateness of boob-drawing. And she doesn’t need the aggravation. So I resist my first impulse and I tell her she’s done a great job, but why doesn’t she draw a turtle instead. She is welcome to draw as many boobs as she wants when she gets home.
- Instant gratification. Not yet. But soon.
- Baker. A great job.