Oh, proud mommy is me. Is that a real sentence?
I’ll just go and ask my 11-year-old son. He’s sooooooooooooooo smart. Scary smart. A bit arrogant smart, too, but, hey, I’m not hatin’.
For the past year or so, my son has been saying he either wants to become a social studies teacher or the President of the United States. On the president front, my husband told him to aim higher. Uh-Oh, did I write that out-loud? Are blogs covered by the Patriot Act?
Sorry, ADD.
So, the wise little owl that he is, brings home a written assignment that he must correct before handing in. He gives it to me and says, “Tell me if this is a good story.” Arrogant, didn’t I tell you? The boy knew damn well it was a good story. I was the clueless one, but what’s new?
So, he hands me this thing while I’m in the middle of my own writing nightmare. I take it from him and offer that “I’ll pretend to be a good mother and read it and nod at all the right places so that your confidence can continue to inflate and you’ll grow up to be a strong confident man who rules the world” smile. But, to my surprise, I was hooked from the first line. I mean, the first damn line. Did I say he was good? Better than good.
He’s even got a voice. Mind you, this was a kid who didn’t speak a coherent sentence for the first 3 1/2 years of his life, prompting us to spend money on a speech therapist. Though, I think we overpaid because when he does decide to open that mouth of his, it’s a mile a second.
The story was about a Marine in the distant future who, having returned from a future war, is unable to adjust to life away from the war. My little egghead (and I mean that with all the loving affection from a mother who continues to struggle with her own learning), he even has this vivid flashback/dream sequence thingy going throughout the entire story.
In the words of Don Corleone: “My boy. My boy.”
I’ll just go and ask my 11-year-old son. He’s sooooooooooooooo smart. Scary smart. A bit arrogant smart, too, but, hey, I’m not hatin’.
For the past year or so, my son has been saying he either wants to become a social studies teacher or the President of the United States. On the president front, my husband told him to aim higher. Uh-Oh, did I write that out-loud? Are blogs covered by the Patriot Act?
Sorry, ADD.
So, the wise little owl that he is, brings home a written assignment that he must correct before handing in. He gives it to me and says, “Tell me if this is a good story.” Arrogant, didn’t I tell you? The boy knew damn well it was a good story. I was the clueless one, but what’s new?
So, he hands me this thing while I’m in the middle of my own writing nightmare. I take it from him and offer that “I’ll pretend to be a good mother and read it and nod at all the right places so that your confidence can continue to inflate and you’ll grow up to be a strong confident man who rules the world” smile. But, to my surprise, I was hooked from the first line. I mean, the first damn line. Did I say he was good? Better than good.
He’s even got a voice. Mind you, this was a kid who didn’t speak a coherent sentence for the first 3 1/2 years of his life, prompting us to spend money on a speech therapist. Though, I think we overpaid because when he does decide to open that mouth of his, it’s a mile a second.
The story was about a Marine in the distant future who, having returned from a future war, is unable to adjust to life away from the war. My little egghead (and I mean that with all the loving affection from a mother who continues to struggle with her own learning), he even has this vivid flashback/dream sequence thingy going throughout the entire story.
In the words of Don Corleone: “My boy. My boy.”
5 comments:
Awesome! Being a mother is the best thing in the whole world! :)
Better than ice cream. And I LOVE ice cream.
LOL
It is wonderful that your son excells at something you enjoy so much. My 13 year old son is a math whiz... a talent and love I do not share. ;)
Wow... Tracy, you've been busy, too!
Congrats on being a full-time writer-cum-writer-director and for raising a brilliant son. (Smart hubby, too, if the "aim higher" remark is any indication...)
Annabel, math is the 8th, 7th, 9th 25th, 104th (?) wonder of the world. See, anything with numbers screws me up. I'm numerically challenged (is that a word?).
It's great when our kids are smarter than us, it's just not so great when they know it.
Thanks, Julie.
I'm really looking forward to seeing American Summer (aka Pool Boy). By the way, did the script change drastically from the version I read many moons ago on Zoe?
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