One of our kids qualified for a state-wide spelling bee.
This should come as no shock to people who believe that intelligence may be hereditary because I’m pretty smart. I know this because I tell myself that very same thing in the mirror every morning.
It also shouldn’t surprise you that I, too, was once a finalist in the Massachusetts State Spelling Bee Finals in, like, 1978 or something. True story.
Back then, though, you could act all of the words out and use hand gestures to represent if it was a movie, had two syllables in it, sounded like something else, etc. Then the judges would try to guess it and dad always ended up getting angry and throwing a chair across the room.
I might be thinking of something else.
No matter, we have some pretty smart kids in the house even though none of them actually know how to spit toothpaste directly into a sink without decorating the entire bathroom counter in Crest Complete. So when one of the kids comes home and tells us of some remarkable achievement, we are like, ‘meh’ because someone else probably did it already and as parents it takes a lot to impress us. The day the kids actually spit toothpaste into the sink we are SO having a party, you guys.
I’ve digressed.
But having smart kids can be a mixed blessing. For example, if you don’t have a child, this is what it’s like living in a house with a kid who is in an upcoming spelling bee:
Me: “Do you want cheese on your spaghetti?”
Child: “Spaghetti. S-p-a-g-h-e-t-t-i. Spaghetti.”
Me: “Ugh. Seriously?”
Child: “Seriously. S-e-r-i-o-u-s-l-y. Seriously.”
Me: “Okay. Cut it out now. It’s annoying.”
Child: “Annoying. A-n-n-o-y-i-n-g. Annoying.”
Me: “OHMYGOD”
Child: “O-H-M-Y-..”
Me: “STOP. I’m not joking. Knock it off. Do you want parmesan or not?”
Child: “Parmesan. P-a-r-m-e-s-a-n. Parmesan.”
Me: [bangs head on table]
Child: “B-A-N-G-B-A-N-G-B..”
Me: “Can you spell ‘grounded with no television if you don’t cut the crap?’”
Child:
Me:
Child: “Cheese on my spaghetti would be great, thanks.”