My son walked into the kitchen this morning and exclaimed, “I think I know enough to quit school.”
While stirring dark chocolate creamer into my coffee, I mumbled something about it being against the law to quit school when you’re ten. When it comes to my kids, I like to make other people the bad guys.
It’s the law.
The school district says you need to do twenty-five pages of times tables this week.
No we can’t have today off, New York State says we need to be in school for 180 days.
And it goes on this way, because it’s bad enough I am the mean guy when it comes to mothering. I don’t want to be the bad guy for school too!
Because my son never drops a subject easily, he continued, “So if I dropped out of school, what would happen?”
I’d go to jail for educational neglect.
“Educational neglect?” He says like it’s the stupidest explanation he’s ever heard, aside from butt r0ots.
For the record, I didn’t make up the term ‘educational neglect’. I read it in the newspapers once. A homeschooling family in New York didn’t properly register with the state, sending in their quarterly reports and all. After being ratted on, the kids were removed from the home and put into foster care, and they were up on charges of educational neglect. Before that, I didn’t know it existed.
I’m never late with my paperwork.
“So if I run away before I drop out of school, will you still go to jail?”
He’s like a pit-bull with a raw steak.
Wondering how I even get myself into these stupid conversations, I said, “If you run away because I gave you too many sciences assignments this week, I will surely go to jail.”
My daughter looked up from toasting a frozen waffle, pooched out her lip and said, “I hope I get a good foster family.”
And suddenly my kids were imagining a home with Oreo cookies constantly stocked in the pantry. I could already see that in their little minds, they were playing Wii at two o’clock in the morning in someone else’s house.
I give up!
I’m going to a foster family for a few days.