My son, my son, my son.
At times it’s endearing how much alike we are. When Kameron and I click, it’s truly magical. When we don’t, well, I can sorta understand that concept of mothers eating their young. Sometimes, like today, he calls me out on my own stuff, like stuff I’ve tried to teach him. Let me tell you, it pisses you off. In the moment you want to strangle the kid, but later when you’re telling the story, or writing about it, you just kinda have to laugh at yourself. (I guess he showed me.) Like something that I would complain about to a friend, and the friend looks at me and says, yeah, but you kinda do that too. Then I’m left eating my own crow.
Most of you know that sixth grade has been a struggle. There was the cheating on the test thing that we had to live through. The planner issue, (where he has to write down all of his assignments for the night) forgetting it at school. Leaving books in the locker when they should have been brought home. The homework, the freakin homework is unbelievable. I just don’t remember having this much homework in sixth grade. Mr. D and I, we divide and conquer the homework. I take all the English/Lit work, Art, Spelling. Mr. D handles the Math, History. We split the Science most of the time. Kameron can have anywhere between 4-5 subject a night. It’s tough, but we get through it.
Recently he had an assignment to recreate a Fairy Tale. I guess they got to choose which story they would put their own special twist on. From what Kameron told me, most of the kids in his class chose “Jack and the Beanstalk.” Not my son, shocker, he wants to stand out. He chose “Little Red Riding Hood.” Probably because he did the play “Into the Woods” over the summer and thought he would have a seemingly advantage because he knew that story/play so well.
When he told me what the assignment was, to have to put his own spin on the play, my immediate thought was awesome. We renamed the feared Wolf, Ezekiel, and made Ezekiel a vegetarian wolf. So Granny doesn’t die. In fact, Ezekiel ends up making a vegetarian stew for Red and Granny to enjoy. By the time we put the rough draft together Kameron and I were laughing our heads off. A Vegetarian Wolf – who thinks of that?
The final copy was due Tuesday. I typed up the paper for Kameron. Which I probably shouldn’t have done, but, I figured, he knows how to type. The anticipation of another two hours of homework was validation enough for me to get it done, one less thing to do.
So when I picked him up from school today, he had a scowl on his face. I thought, uh oh. I knew it was report card day, but we get weekly updates on grades, plus we can check progress anytime we want. It’s not like when I went to school, when if you were paying attention you should know what your grades are before you got the dreaded envelope you had to had over to your parents. I knew where Kameron’s grades were, and knew he made second honors with a 3.1 GPA. So I’m wondering what the scowl is all about as he approaches the car.
He got in the car and heaved a heavy sigh. I smiled and said “how’s your day bud?” Without saying a word he pulls a paper out that has some red markings on it. I looked, it was his version of Red Riding Hood, it looked ok to me. Even better when I flipped back to the last page I saw that his grade was and A+, 50 points out of 50 points. I looked at him and said “Kameron, this is great bud, you got an A+, that is awesome!” Not concerned with the praises I was giving him, he rolled his eyes and said “LOOK.” I looked, yep, it’s still an A +, but that wasn’t what he was referring to. He was referring to my typing error in the first sentence of his revamped version. He pointed at the paper and said “MY” “Mom?” I looked again, it was true, I had accidentally typed my instead of may in the first sentence of his paper. Never mind that him and a friend spilled a drink all over the computer I was using and sometimes, the damn keys stick. No one cares about that. In my defense the error was unintentional, but I could see that Kameron was not happy. I said “bud, I’m sorry, but look, you got an A+, that is awesome!” Not interested, he said, “Mom, we can’t make mistakes like this.” What the hell do you say to that? How could I possibly get mad at him for pointing out my mistake? Part of what I do is write. It was the way he did it, it was like looking in the mirror, it made me proud, and scared the crap out of me at the same time.
So hey, problem solved. No longer is Mom going to type out the finished product on Kameron’s assignments. I suggested he hire and editor, he wasn’t interested.
And he’s only 12.