Homework...

Man, I finish a hard day in the pits of a casino, and come home to find that the 16-year-old is behind in his English homework (again) and his grades are reflecting this sad fact. Mommy is angry as hell, which makes the 16-year-old angry as hell, which stresses out the 18-year-old and the 7-year-old, who get angry as hell at each other... and my night is set. Now I truly am angry as hell.

The boy's assignment was to write a two-page essay on "What an A means to me"... "A" being a letter grade, not a variable. She (the teacher) even handed out a primer that had some "fill-in-the-blank" sentences to get the proverbial ball rolling around in the kid's heads... but our 16-year-old chose (actually CHOSE) not to do the essay. It was due over a month ago.

We have no idea if the teacher will take the essay now, and even if she does, if she'll give him any credit... but the boy is DOING the assignment anyway. And that really has him chapped. I swear on everything that is holy that this boy is going to learn that actions have consequences, and that if he wants fun times or fun things in the future, then he'll do the assignments BEFORE they are over due, because over due or not... they are going to be done.

So, here I sit, at 9:30 pm on a Monday night (I should be watching the game!) force-feeding a 16-year-old essay lessons.

Ironic, isn't it? And me being one of four "essayists" here at the Bund, with 2000+ posts and essays for the world to read on this very blog.

(sigh)