At 6:27 this morning, Small Fry hitched up his alphabet blocks wagon and started down the Crack of Dawn Trail. Destination: Sleeping Parents Cove.
Alphabet wagon wheels squeak horribly, which is a special design feature that not only jolts parents rudely awake, but also allows them to spend the first three minutes of their day gearing up into a sleep-deprived rage over how they'd like to toast marshmallows over alphabet wagon's flaming corpse.
While DH studiously pretended to be asleep, and I cursed myself for staying up past 9:30 on a Saturday night (golly, what was I thinking?), Small Fry made his way to our room and happily settled in for a good alphabet session. Four inches from my head.
Items of note:
1. Early morning is a difficult time for groggy adults to play nicely.
2. Early-morning alphabet wagon is a frequent occurrence at our house.
"Letter A!" chirped Small Fry. "A is for apple, and alligator, and annoying!"
The kid is a genius.
I'm reasonably certain every parent has these sorts of "hmm, they actually registered that, eh?" moments. But, like alphabet wagon this morning, when you don't have an audience, this type of thing isn't too bad. When your child is still too young to be understood by most adults, it's not too bad. In fact, even when your child is fairly young and any gaffes can be easily passed off as humourous misunderstandings, it's still not too bad.
When your child is a very eloquent nine-year-old with perfect recall and a poor grasp of personal boundaries, then it's bad.
Medium Fry's grade four class just wrapped up their Human Sexuality unit. Medium Fry is a bright gal, and we're used to her doing well in most subjects, but in the Human Sexuality unit, she was a star. A shining freaking star. She knew the terms, she knew the science, and heaven help us, she even had witty anecdotes:
"... but they weren't popsicles, they were tampons! Ha ha ha!"
"... then I said, 'When I grow up, I'm going to shave mine!' Ha ha ha!"
"... but it sure didn't sound like they were having a nap! Ha ha ha!"
Oh. My. Gawd.
You know, I didn't want to go to parent-teacher interviews anyways. But I'll sure miss Canada.