Nine years ago, Not Your Average Blogger and I took the day off work to go kill some time in a hospital, and we emerged with a brand new boychild.
For the most part, I think we've done a pretty good job on the upkeep. A few scratches, a few dents, but the Young Prince is still running great.
(Hmmm. Wearing the same sweatshirt as last year, I think. Or we are dreadfully uninspired in the clothing arena...)
As if the universe knew I was going to write about him today, a bunch of material came home from school yesterday. He got all As and Bs during this grading period. He took a bunch of standardized tests and the results came back that he's an ace reader and reasonably good at "nonverbal reasoning" -- what NYAB refers to as "FSO" tests. Also not surprising, his math scores were pretty abysmal -- but even this isn't necessarily cause for dismay -- there were 60 problems and he finished 30. Of those 30, he got 29 right.
So I suspect this score is actually yet another chorus in the "Dude, pay ATTENTION!" song. He CAN add and subtract, he just DOESN'T. I also suspect that many of the B grades he got could have been A's for the same reason. I continue to believe that once he finally figures out that These Things Matter, he'll start acting like they do. Now it's up to me to figure out how to make them matter in the micro, so he'll be equipped for the macro.
He also brought home a note alerting us that his bus driver had died over the weekend, possibly (although I can't verify this,) preceded by some mishap at the school last week. ("He fell and had to go to the hospital, and the buses left late," Thomas said. I don't know if this means the man died because he fell, or fell because he was dying, or the two were completely unrelated.) In any event, this was a bit more complicated than grades, needless to say. The YP was quite fond of this man apparently. The guy used to call him by a different sci-fi name every day when he'd get on the bus, and those of you who know anything about the YP can imagine what this meant to him. So this is a note of sad growing-up-ness in a week of birthday celebration.
And yet, the kid still loves his Captain America gear. And his Tron shirt. Well, yeah.
Last weekend, obviously, was gifts. The haul included the above, along with a Kindle Fire, assorted Tron items and videogames. This weekend, NeighborGirl is home, so we are making a day of it and going to Steak and Shake, then to see Star Wars in 3D. That pod race should be something else. We are all quite excited. And if I'm lucky, I'll finally get a few decent photos of the kid where he isn't "posing" with ridiculous Steve Perry-esque facial expressions.
Happy birthday, YP. I'm gratified that I will (probably) still be taller than you when you turn 10.
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