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Ann was in Kindergarten. Having a September 1 birthday kept her back a year from starting Kindergarten. No matter what I asked, the answer was still the same, "No. She can't start Kindergarten until she's already five. Our cutoff date is August 31. We don't care if she's doing math problems and reading (which she was in daycare). The answer is no. Now if you want to move out of state for one day, enroll her, then move back, we have to accept her." It was already June and there was no way I'd move out of state for one day. We'd just moved to Kansas for my husband's career, and it was already a problem. So we kept Ann out of school for that first year, putting her into a Montessori Daycare. It was a great daycare, encouraging the children to do amazing things. She learned multiplication and how to read chapter books...all before Kindergarten. She was so encouraged to learn, that Ann decided she needed to learn how to spell words. However, her timing couldn't have been worse. Since we'd just moved to Kansas, my in-laws decided they needed to come to visit. I love them dearly, but we'd just moved, which made it tough. They came to visit right before school started, and we showed them around Kansas City. Now, my in-laws were older...much older. They were raised when children were taught to respect their elders, and were morally strong. No one said bad things around them, and we certainly raised our children the same way. We didn't swear in our house, and the children were taught right from wrong. The night before my in-laws were to go home, we went out to eat. My father-in-law loved to eat out. He was a burly man with a heart of gold, but tough on discipline. Ann decided she needed her spelling list done that night, before we went out to eat. So, as we were talking about where to eat, Ann, with paper and pencil in hand, walked up to the group of us. "How do you spell b*tch?" She said the whole word out loud, and I watched as my in-law's mouths dropped. Ann didn't get her answer right away, so she repeated it, pencil poised in the air. "How do you spell b*tch?" My father-in-law turned to me. "What have you taught your children? Do you teach them words like that?" I was appalled, not only by the question, but that my darling four-and-a half year old would know words like that. "Never! What kind of parents do you think we are?" Ann ignored us and asked the question again. My husband, quiet the entire time, turned to her and asked her what it meant. "It means little pieces." "Like bits?" he asked. Ann nodded and everyone laughed. I guess the joke was on us. |
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