where wildly different is perfectly normal
…and so it begins
…and so it begins

…and so it begins

This morning my darling firstborn was initiated into the culture of 1st grade. There was no hazing, no atomic wedgie, no “Thank you sir, may I have another.” No, nothing that simple.

No, today A learned about Pokemon cards. I have never experienced such a carpool. Intense silence, punctuated by questions to the knowledgeable 2nd grader in the middle. Three little boy heads, bent together over these cards, learning the value of each, the defenses of each, the powers of each.

For the love of all that is sweet and holy, I’m screwed. My only condolence in this whole debacle is that A gets an allowance and he can provide his own Pokemon cards. But beyond that, I know what’s coming up. I will be expected to learn and know and discuss all manner of these cards. Oh, you might say, no you won’t, he’ll do that with friends. HA! I say. When A learns something new and exciting, he shares it ad nauseum and expects us (me) to share his enthusiasm. So I can either give up brain space (such as that being taken up by my ability to spell) and ride the wave with him, or I can endure hours of frustration as he attempts to pull me into this new interest.

Eh, hoo nedes to spel, aniwae?

Whaddya think?

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