Today we met with one of Andrew's advisors. We brought along Zoë and Benjamin to spend some time on campus as well (because what else was I going to do with them?) so when we went to meet this professor the kids were in tow.
"And how old are you?" she asked Benjamin.
"I'm four," he said. "But I'm almost ten."
"Not for a few years, buddy," I whispered.
"That's okay, that's okay," she said. "Because do you know what? I'm almost 100 years old. It's true. Very soon I will turn 100. Yes, in about fifty-one years."
"Whoa!" gasped Benjamin.
"I know," she shrugged.
After the meeting I took the little ones on a picnic in Duke Gardens, which was fun. We got home shortly before the girls' bus pulled up and as soon as Miriam walked in the door she began peppering me with questions.
"What's my favourite book, Mom?"
"Harry Potter?" I guessed.
"Good. But which one?"
"I don't know. The fifth?"
"No."
"The first?"
"No. It's the seventh. Now, what's my favourite movie?"
We went through homework and did some painting and plodded through piano practice before rushing through dinner. I had a marathon of parent orientations at the elementary school today (6:00 for grade two; 6:45 for principal meeting; 7:15 for grade four) and Andrew doesn't usually get home before 6:00 so for him to get home in time to eat dinner before I had to leave really had us sprinting.
Before I walked out the door Miriam said, "Don't forget what I've been telling you. There's a quiz."
When I got to her classroom and found her desk...there was a quiz!
Question one was "What is your child's favourite book?"
I was fairly well prepared for that quiz, though I think I still managed to get a couple of the questions wrong. The second part of the quiz was guessing which self-portrait was Miriam's. I figured hers out fairly easily. It was #13, the one of the cute little girl with a long blonde ponytail.
When I came home and told Miriam what number I guessed she panicked.
"I'm #6, Mom!" she said shrilly.
"I don't think so," I said.
"Yes! I'm #6 in the line up! It says #6 on my desk! All my papers are #6!"
"I saw that," I said, "And I looked at #6 but it was a picture of a boy with black hair and I figured that wasn't you..."
"Are you sure?" Miriam asked.
"Positive," I said.
"Can you tell me what colour of shirt the person in the picture had on?" she asked.
"I can't remember," I said.
"Was it purple?"
"I think so..."
Eventually I got her settled down, promising her that she could go to school tomorrow and check for herself, only to have her reemerge from her room fifteen minutes later, completely in tears.
"I just have to ask Mom something," she sniffed when Andrew, keeper of the doors, heard the doorknob twisting and barked, "Back to bed!"
"Mom, can you just describe to me the background of the picture you chose?"
"Sweetie..." I started.
"Did you take a picture of it? Did they even let you have cell phones? I know there's no technology allowed during testing..." she blubbered.
"It wasn't that kind of test," I said. "But I didn't take a picture."
"But what if you didn't choose the right one?"
"Then that's my bad," I said. "I'd be the one who got it wrong, not you. You would have fooled me. Fool me once, shame on me. But fool me twice? Shame...also...on me. Or something like that."
Andrew started laughing at the "fool me once" line, so Miriam started laughing as well and I think we really, officially, finally managed to calm her nerves enough to last until the morning when she can check to see whether I guessed the correct portrait or not.
"And how old are you?" she asked Benjamin.
"I'm four," he said. "But I'm almost ten."
"Not for a few years, buddy," I whispered.
"That's okay, that's okay," she said. "Because do you know what? I'm almost 100 years old. It's true. Very soon I will turn 100. Yes, in about fifty-one years."
"Whoa!" gasped Benjamin.
"I know," she shrugged.
After the meeting I took the little ones on a picnic in Duke Gardens, which was fun. We got home shortly before the girls' bus pulled up and as soon as Miriam walked in the door she began peppering me with questions.
"What's my favourite book, Mom?"
"Harry Potter?" I guessed.
"Good. But which one?"
"I don't know. The fifth?"
"No."
"The first?"
"No. It's the seventh. Now, what's my favourite movie?"
We went through homework and did some painting and plodded through piano practice before rushing through dinner. I had a marathon of parent orientations at the elementary school today (6:00 for grade two; 6:45 for principal meeting; 7:15 for grade four) and Andrew doesn't usually get home before 6:00 so for him to get home in time to eat dinner before I had to leave really had us sprinting.
Before I walked out the door Miriam said, "Don't forget what I've been telling you. There's a quiz."
When I got to her classroom and found her desk...there was a quiz!
Question one was "What is your child's favourite book?"
I was fairly well prepared for that quiz, though I think I still managed to get a couple of the questions wrong. The second part of the quiz was guessing which self-portrait was Miriam's. I figured hers out fairly easily. It was #13, the one of the cute little girl with a long blonde ponytail.
When I came home and told Miriam what number I guessed she panicked.
"I'm #6, Mom!" she said shrilly.
"I don't think so," I said.
"Yes! I'm #6 in the line up! It says #6 on my desk! All my papers are #6!"
"I saw that," I said, "And I looked at #6 but it was a picture of a boy with black hair and I figured that wasn't you..."
"Are you sure?" Miriam asked.
"Positive," I said.
"Can you tell me what colour of shirt the person in the picture had on?" she asked.
"I can't remember," I said.
"Was it purple?"
"I think so..."
Eventually I got her settled down, promising her that she could go to school tomorrow and check for herself, only to have her reemerge from her room fifteen minutes later, completely in tears.
"I just have to ask Mom something," she sniffed when Andrew, keeper of the doors, heard the doorknob twisting and barked, "Back to bed!"
"Mom, can you just describe to me the background of the picture you chose?"
"Sweetie..." I started.
"Did you take a picture of it? Did they even let you have cell phones? I know there's no technology allowed during testing..." she blubbered.
"It wasn't that kind of test," I said. "But I didn't take a picture."
"But what if you didn't choose the right one?"
"Then that's my bad," I said. "I'd be the one who got it wrong, not you. You would have fooled me. Fool me once, shame on me. But fool me twice? Shame...also...on me. Or something like that."
Andrew started laughing at the "fool me once" line, so Miriam started laughing as well and I think we really, officially, finally managed to calm her nerves enough to last until the morning when she can check to see whether I guessed the correct portrait or not.
Oh man, she sounds like SUCH a second child. At least that's what mine would have sounded like in that situation.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I can NEVER get that "fool me once" line right. I either end up accidentally quoting W or just laughing instead.
She sounds like my oldest. My second child is so laid back about that kind of stuff...now if you do something to hurt her in some way prepare then for death stares, pinching, and maybe a punch or two when mom isn't looking but she doesn't stress these kinds of things. I remember in third grade they had a quiz like that and she laughed at me about the ones I got wrong. She was actually happy she tricked me ;) Last night we were sitting on the bed reading and E said, "Aren't you guys getting stressed about school starting on Wednesday," and G was like, "Why? It's just school." And then S was like, "Yeah and just think of all the new friends we are going to make." I wish I could be that laid back because honestly I'm stressed about school. The bus stop is .7 miles away instead of right off our main street, .25 miles away, the baby is being born three days later. E has to change classes and use a locker. Will he talk to anyone? Oh man I wish I could study for this quiz called life ;)
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