MyThreeDaughters

Fontaine’s fried.
Stick a book report in her, she’s done. It’s the end of her kindergarten year, and she hates school. She hates homework.
That is correct, anyone who hasn’t had a school age kid in the past decade, she has homework. Every night. Oh, right, they don’t get homework on weekends, because after all it’s (SCREAMING PROFANITY GOES HERE) kindergarten!
That’s how they do it nowadays, because we have standardized learning and standardized tests and standardized schools and standardized kids. (In fact, now that I have used it several times, what the heck kind of word is “standardized”?)
Let’s see those hands parents…who among you wants your kid to be “standard”? Can you say “average”? Can you say, “middle-management interchangeable cog”?
Anyway, never too soon to get cracking, so, homework in kindergarten. Seriously, she actually does math.
We found out today that, due to the standardized tests being taken by the third graders, there are no gym, music or art classes for the rest of the year. I suppose those teachers are needed to monitor the standardized tests, in case the third-graders try to cheat their way into Harvard. Ivy League schools must be concerned about being crushed under the influx of geniuses applying in another decade or so, thanks to all this standardized learning.
Or, as the wasted almost-six year old put it this morning, “Why does school have to last 16 hundred fifty-nine thousand sixteen seventy ninety days?”