Smart Mouth

I really didn’t like third grade homework when I had to do it, and I like it even LESS when I am doing it over as a 34 year old helping an 8 year old.Actually, when I was in 3rd grade I was in a private school and arrived VERY early since the bus dropped us off before dropping of the public school kids.  So, I would do all my homework before school and then spend the day reading my bible.  I. KNOW.  Hard to believe, isn’t it?  I actually used to read the bible!!

But, I digress….

So, we have been doing homework for the past 45 minutes now and I think my frickin head is gonna explode.  I’d have a margarita but the reason we are rushing because we have our first girl scout meeting tonight.  That’s right.  Girl freakin scouts.  That’s a WHOLE ‘nother story, filled with childhood trauma I might add…. so, anyway, no drinks for Momma.

So, Carsten HATES math.  With a fiery burning passion.  She stalls, she avoids, she makes excuses…. this is extra annoying because she gets all this fantastic character traits from me. And?  I ALSO HATE MATH.

So, it goes like this.

The problem is something like:  Write a ballpark estimate and then solve this problem.  102 + 254 =

So we get to the estimate, 100 +250.  I am TRYING to teach her to add 10 + 25 and just add a 0 to your answer.  I say, what is 10 + 25?  (she KNOWS this like the back of her hand by the way)

At this point she throws out a bunch of random numbers in an attempt to drive me insane so that I will just give her the answer.

I refuse to give in and ask her again until I am red in the face, you can see veins on my forehead and there is smoke coming out of my ears.  I also occasionally want to bang my head against a brick wall.  HARD.

At several points she attempts tactics to avoid the question.  Such as petting the dogs, blowing up her juice box like a balloon and laying on her side.

Then we repeat this process for the next 50 or so problems.

Jesus on a bike.  I don’t know who is closer to tears.  Me or Carsten

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