- Must be nice to have a gifted kid.
Heh. Yeah, so nice. It’s just…hysterical giggle…awesome. <twitch> Everything is just so….sob….easy peasy. Please offer me free respite care for a few days and then we will talk again; my brain may be back online by then.
- If he’s so gifted, why can’t s/he <fill in the blank>.
Allow me to introduce you to my Asynchrony Stick. I shall now beat you about the head and neck with it.
- Whoa, is Little Einstein going to college already?
Dude, that’s insulting, and unless you’re ponying up the cash for tuition it’s none of your business. Besides, he wants to be called Batman these days.
- Oh, all kids are gifted, they just open their presents at different times.
- Pfft…that’s not gifted, that’s ADHD/Asperger’s/Spoiled Child.
<Blank, despairing look> Your picture is next to the description of Willful Ignoramus, isn’t it?
- Quit pushing that child! You’re just a pushy Tiger Mom.
Pushing. You think I’m pushing. Not so much. I’m duct taped to a cheetah here and I’m just praying I can tuck and roll if he slows.
- Schools can handle the needs of a gifted child just fine.
What color is the sky in the little world you live in?
- What the hell is this twice-exceptional crap? Sounds like a made up diagnosis for excuses.
This crap, as you so eloquently (sigh…and accurately) described it, is a child who…you know what, you don’t really care and you’re not listening anyway. Bugger off, you’re not worth educating today and I’m tired from dealing with the aforementioned twice-exceptional crap.
- Gifted kids don’t need any help, they’ll be just fine on their own. Cream always rises to the top.
Sure, if the cream is kept in the best possible conditions for rising; stick it into a deep freeze and see how well it rises to the top then. News flash: IT DOESN’T MAKE ICE CREAM.
- What has your child achieved? I don’t see any high test scores or eminence. I thought all gifted kids were brainy over-achievers, like the ones on those TV shows.
And I thought all adults could distinguish between real life and scripted TV. My bad.
- You’re over-reacting.
Come a little closer and say that. A leetle closer, I can’t reach your throat. That’s good….what were you saying again? Hmm, can’t hear you, I think you’re over-reacting to my hands around your neck.
- You don’t know what you’re talking about, you’re not an educator/psychologist/therapist/doctor.
Nope, I’m a parent, I’m all those things stuffed into one hyper-caffeinated package, and I specialize in THIS child. I know what he needs. No one ever learns as quickly, deeply, and completely as a
concernedfreaked-out mother, so yeah, I do know what I’m talking about. I have a PhD in THIS kid: Parenting higher Difficulties.
- Boy, we really expect great things from <child’s name>.
Wow, me too. Only I will still know that he has that gifted wiring if he doesn’t accomplish a damned thing in his life, whereas I suspect you’ll think it was a mistake all along.
- So glad my kids are normal.
Whoa now…back that shit up…really, you think giftedness is abnormal? How interesting. Kindly elaborate. <intense stare>
- You didn’t need any help growing up and you turned out just fine.
Right. Define fine. Just 31 flavors of anxiety-ridden fine right here, swirled with over-excitabilities and a dollop of intensity sauce. Dig in, here’s a shovel, first let me smack you with it.
- Oh, it’s can’t be that bad.
Mmhm…where’s the wine?
Sixteen things parents of gifted kids are sick of hearing (and what they’re thinking when they do)
Published inGifted & Twice-Exceptional