My nine year old son announced that he had to write a four page report on animals. While pulling out details of the assignment, I realized that something was a little off. Next came the confession from my dear son:
DS: "Well, its actually a punishment."
Me:"What are you being punished for?"
DS: "Yesterday, when our class went to the carpet, Teacher said if you get your name on the board (for being disruptive)you have to write a report on animals. I asked if I could just write the report and she didn't say anything. So I did just enough bad things to get my name on the board and now I get to write the report!"
He is indeed my child. His love of knowledge and need to share in this case made him get himself in trouble. What does a mother do? I told him to get researching and make sure the report was as good as he could make it.
I plan to call his teacher today and ask her not to encourage his delinquency.
What would you do to be able to write? Would you be disruptive?
Disruption is a reward in itself, no promise of writing necessary.
ReplyDeleteRemember that one time, at Paradise, when I "accidentally" bumped into that person just to disrupt a conversation? Ah...good times!
Seriously? He cracks me up! Honestly, if I were in his shoes, I might have had the desire to write the report, but I certainly wouldn't have gotten myself into trouble to do so. More play time for me. (I was an outdoor kind of kid). Also, if I were you I'd have a talk with the teacher about the kinds of punishments he/she is handing out. I don't like the idea of making that kind of writing a punishment. Now, if they had said, "Write a four page paper about how you can behave better in class" I might feel differently. :)
ReplyDeleteDeb, I'm sure you've had more times than just 'that one time' when you've been disruptive on purpose. In fact, I'd like to hear more about them as they're always entertaining. :)
You get to be disruptive AND write?!?!
ReplyDeleteI KNOW! What kind of punishment is that?
ReplyDeleteAnd about Debbie's disruptive moments there have been many and several at Paradise Cafe I might add. So if you ever go to Paradise on a Saturday morning and a zebra shoe hits you in the face you'll know who to blame. She'll be the one cackling in the corner.