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Thursday, January 29, 2015

Wait, I thought I was the grown-up...?

Thursday, January 29, 2015 By

AUGUSTA, GA. - It was the night of the elementary school science fair, and we'd had a wonderful day - but a busy one. School, Costco, science fair, celebratory ice cream... and Emerson was not quite finished with her homework. She completed her social studies, and had gotten just a few questions into her math worksheet, when I realized it was 8:30 p.m.

"Why don't you finish that in the morning, Doodle? It's getting late."

Immediately, she made an anxious face at me.

"Mom. No. I have to finish my homework. It's really, really important. I mean, maybe you don't know this, but I have to keep my grades up to go to college."

Maybe I don't know that? Laughable. I wish I had known that when I was in 4th grade, but whatever. Far be it from me to tell her not to study.

"Woozie, I-"

"No. Mom, I'm going to finish it tonight. I don't have this skill learned yet. I have to work on turning fractions into decimals. And decimals into fractions. It's really important!"

"Yeah, what I was-"

"Mom! Are you even listening to me? College is coming up - like, I have to know this stuff!"

I held up my hands: "Emerson. Breathe."

She was still making anxious eyes at me.

But somewhat less like a startled bunny.

"Emerson,really, just take a couple of deep breaths."

She did.

"Okay, what I was trying to tell you is that I'm proud of you for taking your schoolwork seriously, and I support you staying up to finish it. Just remember that we have to get up early in the morning because we're bringing doughnuts to your class for your birthday."

"Oh. I thought you were going to tell me to go to bed."

"Nope. I'm almost never going to tell you to stop doing homework when you want to do homework. That would not be productive."

"Oh... well, I guess I was being rude, then. I'm really sorry."

"No problem, Doodle. Thanks for the apology. I'm going upstairs to get my jammies on and turn down the bed and brush my teeth and stuff. I'll be back. Holler if you need me."

Oh, my gosh, I thought, as I was walking up the stairs. My child is freaking awesome. But I wonder whose child I got at the hospital? Because my mother warned me that MY child was going to pay me back for all the hell I gave her, and so far that's not happening.


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