There aren't a whole of things, as a mom, that I think are particularly specialized skills that I bring to the table, which a lot of other moms aren't perfectly and equally capable of handling in a teenager's life.
The exception, at the least the most recent one, is Hamlet.
Let me say this. When your kid puts as a status update on her Facebook page "is on Team Fortinbras" you're doing something right.
When other kids in her English class reply with "who?" and she can respond with a movie quote, "I don't even want to think about what you're not learning in [English] class," you get bonus points.
She's also reported that she's laughing at points during the movie (when she should) and having everyone around her look at her quizzically, because they can't even keep up with what's being said, much less the jokes.
She chose the essay prompt on Fortinbras because she was pretty sure no one else would do it and she had a good handle on all of the topics, so why not do the one no one else was doing? (English teachers like that. Trust me.)
One small problem. I discovered this evening as I was proofing her essay that the girl doesn't know how to spell Fortinbras. She kept typing Fortenbras.
But that wasn't the real problem.
The problem was, she didn't believe me.
Seriously.
This child, who I've walked through every scene of the play, quoting lines, interpreting, explaining themes and jokes and historical references, didn't think I knew how to spell Fortinbras.
She actually looked it up before muttering "dangit" and slamming the book shut again.
Teenagers.
The exception, at the least the most recent one, is Hamlet.
Let me say this. When your kid puts as a status update on her Facebook page "is on Team Fortinbras" you're doing something right.
When other kids in her English class reply with "who?" and she can respond with a movie quote, "I don't even want to think about what you're not learning in [English] class," you get bonus points.
She's also reported that she's laughing at points during the movie (when she should) and having everyone around her look at her quizzically, because they can't even keep up with what's being said, much less the jokes.
She chose the essay prompt on Fortinbras because she was pretty sure no one else would do it and she had a good handle on all of the topics, so why not do the one no one else was doing? (English teachers like that. Trust me.)
One small problem. I discovered this evening as I was proofing her essay that the girl doesn't know how to spell Fortinbras. She kept typing Fortenbras.
But that wasn't the real problem.
The problem was, she didn't believe me.
Seriously.
This child, who I've walked through every scene of the play, quoting lines, interpreting, explaining themes and jokes and historical references, didn't think I knew how to spell Fortinbras.
She actually looked it up before muttering "dangit" and slamming the book shut again.
Teenagers.
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