Expired Education and Soapboxes
It happened to me last week and I didn’t even know it could happen to people. My education expired.
I’ve always known that things you’ve learned in your life, you could possibly forget. I didn’t know that things you’ve been taught and remember how to do, just don’t work today.
Girl Twin asked if I could help her with some math homework. I looked at the homework and saw it was finding and comparing percentages. I thought, “Heck yeah, I can do this!”
The first problem Girl Twin and I worked on was to compare 5 cups to 8 cups. We went to work on the problem. I was showing Girl Twin my method of determining percentages. I could see Girl Twin was getting agitated. She clearly was not understanding my teaching method. I asked Girl Twin if she could explain to me how she thought the problem could be solved.
After listening to her explanation, I suggested she try to give my way a shot. By now, Girl Twin is really agitated and not listening to a word I was saying.
Me: Why don’t we try it my way and see what answer we get. Girl Twin: We don’t do it like that anymore. Me: I can see that. I would have never been able to use a “smart” phone as a calculator. Girl Twin: I’m going to get a bad grade because you don’t know how to do this. Me: You minght get a bad grade because you won’t listen. Girl Twin: Monner, It is not 1976 anymore, your way will not work.
Her last comment might have upset me a little. OK, it did.
Me: Girl Twin, when you were in second grade adding 2+2 what answer did you get? Girl Twin: Four. Me: Four is exactly the number I got when I was in second grade. The math doesn’t change. Now, I’m done, you are on your own. Girl Twin: I’m going to see if someone else can help me. Me: Good idea. (I said that just to get the last word. Getting the last word is absolutely necessary in good parenting.)
I’ve thought about about her 1976 comment. Maybe she is right. Maybe education is like a car, you drive it for a while and wear it out. Then you take it to the junk yard and get a new one. I don’t want a new education, I’m just going to keep driving this one until I wear out.
I probably should mention, by the end of the night, Girl Twin didn’t own a “smart” phone and I had an extra one. Good parenting.
Boy Twin has been wrestling for his school. Some of the boys on his team are really good wrestlers, especially the ones that have older brothers that have been throwing them around since birth.
Boy Twin doesn’t have the luxury of an older brother, so it’s up to me to throw him around when we get time. Since I outweigh him, the matches don’t last very long. He doesn’t listen to my advice. I think my wrestling knowledge might have expired.
Some of the middle schools in the area have girls on their wrestling teams. Our school does not. Boy Twin did not wrestle a girl this year.
One of the boys on our schools teams wrestled a girl of equal weight. Our boy accumulated wrestling points against the girl quickly and with ease. Our boy soon had enough points for a majority decision. With fifteen seconds left in the match the girl skillfully/accidentally/luckily rolled our boy over on his back and pinned the boy as time expired.
Please imagine me standing on a soapbox as I tell the rest of the story.
The crowd supporting the girl exploded. They could not have been happier. The boy, not so much. Immediately the boy’s crowd and his “friends” started talking about the boy getting beat by a girl.
The match took place on a Monday afternoon. The boy did not return to school until the following Monday. This boy quit the wrestling team because it’s not fun anymore.
OK, I’m all for women and equal rights. I want every women around me to make more money than me. That would give me the opportunity to be lazier than I am. GIRLS DO NOT BELONG IN BOYS SPORTS AND BOYS DO NOT BELONG IN GIRLS SPORTS. It is not fair to boys. If a boy beats a girl in a boys sport, it is said he should have beat her; he’s a boy. If a girl beats a boy in a boy’s sport, somehow the boy is less than masculine. It is no win for the boy.
Elaine just kicked the box out from under me. (Kicking Monner’s soap box is a girl’s sport.)
Our crazy lives!