Not a white person

I had just picked Denis up from his piano lesson and was taking him to his VB match.  He was sitting in the front seat next to me.  It was a pretty nice day, and he was wearing shorts.  As I looked over I noticed that his legs looked really dry.  Naturally, being the dad, I just can't let it go.

So I look over and say to him "Damn!  Your legs look really dry!"  OK, so maybe I said 'Darn.'  Generally a volley like this is met with resistance.  This time it was more like defeat.  The essence of the response I got back was resignation.  'Yeah, they're always dry."  Those of you who have kids will recognize this as a strategy to give up in the face of inevitability.  Nothing I can do about it pops!  Just going to have to live with them being dry.

Naturally I don't buy that.  So I ask him if he put lotion on them after his shower in the morning.  And of course the answer is no.  Too rushed in the morning.  This brings me into full dad mode - well of course they're going to be dry if you don't put lotion on them!

Silence follows.  He's working on perfecting the surly teen thing, and this is a great time to practice.  Eventually he pipes in with a question: "Why don't white people's legs get dry?"  At first I thought he had simply mis-worded the question.  He of course wanted to know why white people's legs got so dry all the time.  I was all prepared to deliver and answer.  But then it hit me.  He did word the question correctly - he just doesn't consider himself to be White!

I mean it really hit me.  I damn near missed my next shift.  He doesn't consider himself to be white.  And why should he - he's 1/2 White 1/2 Asian.  So he's really neither.  But he's light skinned and has brown hair, and I guess unconsciously I've always thought of him as white.  But he's not.  At least he's not in his mind.  Wild!

Once I recovered we talked about my friend Chris.  Chris is black, and during the winters in Wisconsin would always complain about his legs being ashy.  And that every race gets dry skin, but the darker your skin tone the more obvious it is.

So I think I recovered OK.  But the whole time I'm thinking: Denis isn't White!  Who knew?

Those of you who know the family history know that I am not a fan of children skipping grades.  I just don't see the benefit.  Sure, they get to college a year or two faster, but it doesn't make them smarter.  And in many cases they're not mature enough to handle the environment and suffer as a result.  I offer by way of example my oldest brother (skipped 2 grades) and oldest sister (skipped one grade).  After the experiences with those two my parents did not allow the rest of us to skip.  Thank God!

I have passed this philosophy into my parenting.  I do not try to teach my kids topics ahead of when they learn them in class.  If I did, when the class learned the topic they'd be bored.  And would likely misbehave and get into trouble.  So again; what's the point?

But try as I might to hold them back, somehow the slippery buggers get away from me.  It appears that this has just happened with Seamus.

It wasn't malicious or spiteful learning (is there such a thing?)  He just happened to be in a room when the older kids were doing some math exercises.  And he couldn't help but overhear what they were doing.  This is how he learned to add.  Mandy was working with Tara, drilling her on basic addition.  She's in 2nd grade, so this is what she should be learning.  It wasn't sticking right away, so they went over it several times.  Think of Tara as Teflon when it comes to math and Seamus as glue.  Gorilla glue.

Now Seamus is in kindergarten.  I don't think they're even talking about basic addition.  It's more numbers, number line etc.  The fact that he picked up addition wasn't a big concern as he would get that instruction soon enough.  But it's gone just a bit beyond that.

Mandy came home today and announced that she was quizzing Seamus on addition facts in the van.  OK.  How'd he do?  Well, she was impressed that he could do the problems from his seat in the van.  No numbers in front of him, it was all in his head.  Again I discounted it, as I figured he had memorized the single number addition chart.

No, Mandy says.  It wasn't single number addition.  "Really?"  I asked?  "He's on double-digit addition already?  Wow.  That is advanced for kindergarten."  No again.  

He's doing triple digit addition.  In his head.  And getting them right.  As a kindergartener.

Holy cow!  Mimi can't do that!  I am just going to get myself mentally prepared now for behavioral problems in the next few years.  Like there wouldn't have been enough of those regardless.

Good with the bad I suppose.