“I don’t want to tell you,” Miss6 told me solemnly this morning.
Sometimes the sweetest thing about Sunday is simply being able to come at the day at your own pace. My daughter and I had been lying in bed talking about school, and the subject of how fantastic it is to have a parent come into the class to help the teacher once a week had come up.
“Why not?” I asked suspiciously.
Miss6’s suddenly taking the fifth wasn’t boding well for me. I’d prompted her for who was the best at helping in class, her Mum or me.
“I just don’t want to say,” she dodged. Then she smiled at me. “You’re both good!”
“Of course we are,” I agreed. “But I’m gooderer, yes?”
“I think I should get up now,” said Miss6.
She was not going anywhere.
Clearly, the fact her Mum helped in class this week was overshadowing all I’d achieved the week before. What was needed here was a quick reminder of some of the highlights of my maths lesson.
“Does your Mum high five?” I asked.
“No.”
“Did your Mum teach everyone to snapplause?” I asked, raising my hands above our heads and giving an example.
“No,” she giggled, shaking her head.
I felt I had her onside now. Time to get the answer I deserved.
“So I’ll ask you again. Who is the best at helping in class, Mummy or Daddy?”
“You did good, Daddy, but…” Miss6 said hesitantly.
It was that same tone I’ve historically associated with sentences like, ‘You’re a great guy, but…’
“But what?” I prompted her. I just had to know now. What did Tracey bring to the table? Was she handing out Minties? Because I can do that.
“…but,” continued Miss6, “Mummy was teaching on the iPads.”
Whereas I was relegated to the daggy-by-comparison touch screen on the whiteboard – even I’d have voted for my wife based on this grossly uneven playing field.
I’m thinking I might need to have a little chat to Miss6’s grade one teacher before my scheduled assistance on Friday. I may not get to teach on the iPads, because I’m sure every cool parent worth their salt is elbowing their way to the front of that line, but with a word in the right ear I’m hoping Tracey might be given the flash cards next time she goes in to help.
After which, my Sunday pillow talk with Miss6 will no doubt be a lot more enjoyable.
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“Raising a family on little more than laughs.”
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