Next week, I will have to visit my son’s middle school for a parent-teacher conference. Why? In order to discuss my child’s abyssmal grades and explore strategies to help him to be more successful. Yuck. I dread this part of parenting. And really, I am not sure which new strategies we will succeed in coming up with. Make sure he’s getting his homework done? Check. Ensure that he gets plenty of sleep and not too much screen time? Check. Remove every existing privilege when his grades go south? Yup, we do that, too. So what is the problem? Why is my otherwise bright kid doing poorly in school?
In educated terms, my son suffers from severe case of underachievement sparked by lack of motivation and an unfortunate desire to distract himself and his classmates with humor.
In other words, he’s lazy. And a class clown.
And so I will promise to do my motherly best to help my kid to change. But I may as well try to teach a cat to swim or a river to stop flowing. My unfortunate child has two lazy parents and one who is former class clown. Okay, well not exactly former. I still love to make people laugh. And yes, my clownish ways led to a few crummy grades when I was young, and a few detentions, too. Not so funny. Well, except for the spitball I made, which landed smack-dab in the middle of the number 8 my math teacher had just written on the chalkboard. Now that was funny. But don’t tell my son. I don’t want him to get ay ideas.
Songs on my mind: The Lazy Song — Bruno Mars
Like Father Like Son — Elton John