Nate and I were walking to the car after I picked him up at school one afternoon this week. He was talking and I was listening. Well, sort of listening. I was committing the parental sin of having one ear open and the other listening to my inner voice about some other problem I was trying to solve.
Then I heard him say "home school." I said, "How do you know about home school?" After all, I wasn't sure what context he said it in, since I wasn't listening and all.
He said, "Mrs. S. read to us about it in a book." I said, "Oh okay, do you know what that is?"
"Sure, mom. It's when you have school at home."
"Would you like that?" I say. "Mmmmm...no way," he says as he shakes his head.
"I didn't think so," I say, "and your parents are your teachers."
*Crickets*
"Your parents are your teachers?"
"That's right," I say.
*Crickets*
{Smirking} "But there is no way you all could ever be smart enough to teach me!"
"Really now, really?" I say.
Even though sometimes that is exactly the way I feel about teaching him:) Not smart enough, not patient enough, not creative enough. But alas, he learns anyway:)
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