Too Cool for School

Since Beckett started attending school, I've received many comments on what a "neat kid" he is (not picking up the toys from every bucket in the playroom that he's thrown on the floor "neat," but 80s middle school "neat.") His teacher has been impressed with his knowledge of letters, memory, matching skills, and his uncanny ability to connect animals to their primary food source while tracing a winding dotted line. (Apparently, this last skill was quite impressive and can take all school year to master. Yes, my son is a genius at tracing and feeding hungry animals their proper diet). She's often impressed with the connections he makes and astute observations. But he's not just intellectual. Oh, no, Beckett apparently is quite nurturing and empathic. Just ask the little Italian boy in his class who speaks very little English and was so distraught over his mother's leaving him at school that he cried almost the entire 3 hours of class. Beckett was, reportedly, very helpful and assured him his mother would indeed return, and, in the meantime, he could play with Thomas the Tank Engine. And then, there's his conversation skills. The mere fact that he never stops talking means that at some point he will say something truly remarkable. The director says, "we just love having Beckett here," and has remarked on how self-sufficient he is. Now, I acknowledge, she might say that to every parent. But I have to think I was singled out simply because of Beckett's awesomeness.

Is it possible to get an inflated ego because of your offspring? Maybe. But just as you start to pride yourself on wonderful parenting skills and remarkable genes, you watch your son painstakingly attempt to hang his lunch box from his penis, trying again each time it falls (the lunch box, not the penis) crashing to the floor. When you ask him, "Why? Why are you doing that?" he responds both emphatically and casually, "Because my penis is a good hanger." Well there you have it. He is a genius!