The Teacher's Kid

Parker. My youngest son. So much like me-- yet so much like his father. Parker-- smarter than the average 3rd grader. Unorganized. A teacher's worst nightmare. he looks for the loophole in every rule. If you didn't specifically tell him the rule, it doesn't apply. Over Christmas I helped him reorganize his notebook. We put page protecters in each section, labeled each divider with his subjects, and replenished his note book with clean paper. We threw away all the ripped, twisted and torn papers that were scattered in his backpack, and straightened out his notes, studyguides and placed them in page protectors. We punched holes in some of the sheets he needed to keep, and placed them in the proper sections of the new notebook. It is February. His notebook looks as though it has been through a trash compactor. To make matters worse, I decided to go through his back pack yesterday. That might have been a mistake. I thought I was going to have a heart attack as I pulled out signed papers that were given out last week, and a project packet from CLIMB (Gifted and talented class) that was given to him before Christmas. Of course, I am sure you can guess when the project was due. Yep, you got it. Today. You know what really gets my goat? I am a teacher!!! He is a teacher's kid! He is supposed to be more responsible than this!!!!!! He should be the shining example of what a student is supposed to do! Now I know why mothers in the wild eat their young.