Ezra, Zach and I were all snuggled up on the couch, ready to learn about natural selection. We had videos, we had blankets, we had fun worksheets, and we had done lots of prep work. This was gonna be great.
Except that the boys were rude, they were uninterested, they were unfocused, and they were whiny. It was miserable. Really, truly awful. I was fighting the urge to cry. I was fighting the urge to throw the computer on the floor and storm out of the house. The boys were fighting none of their urges; they were little urge-satiating aliens.
At some point during this torture-for-all lesson, Ezra interrupted me to ask in disgust, “Who invented school?”
I ignored him.
“Mom, do you know who invented school?”
“No, Ezra. Now let’s focus.”
“Well, if I ever find out who invented school, I’m gonna kick him in the face.”
I ignored him again so we could get back to not learning anything.
A couple hours later, we were in the car and Ezra was reading a book of “Amazing Facts.” From the back, I hear, “OMG. Oh. My. Gosh! I don’t know if this is his first name or his last name, but I think I found the guy who invented school.”
Zach asked who it was and Ezra answered, “His name is plateau, and we’ve gotta find him and kick him in the face, Zach.”
“I think you mean Plato, and he’s been dead for more than two thousand years.” I respond.
“Well, are his ancestors alive?”
“I think you mean descendants.”
“Zach, we’ve gotta find his descendants. And when we do, we’ve gotta kick ’em in the face.”
Just another touching homeschool moment. So proud.