Big Man graduates from preschool tonight. It will be a proud and happy moment for his parents. Proud because it’s another step completed on his journey to becoming a man of substance. Happy because it means the end of tuition payments. Big Man is learning on your dime for the next 13 years, Dear American Taxpayer. He’s a public school boy now.
That’s not to say we’re turning him completely over to you. We will continue to work with him to master riding a bike and tying shoe laces. And we’ve already done all the nasty potty training stuff. All we really need you to do is teach him Calculus and whatever other sundries he needs to get a full college scholarship. We’d like to make a habit of this not paying tuition thing.
Buster’s preschool graduation day, two years ago. He is currently pursuing a post-Kindergartenal degree in Homework Evasion.
Big Man is mentally prepared for Kindergarten. He’s a boy full of curiosities, who is slowly being disappointed to find his father does not know everything. He is coming to understand that his pathway to knowledge runs through Kindergarten, and then high school. Any information gleaned from Daddy is supplemental at best.
The other day, for instance, Big Man and Daddy were observing a Roly-Poly (a.k.a. Pill Bug) in its travels along the length of a twig. “What do Roly-Polies eat?” Big Man asked Daddy.
I could probably see what it’s eating if I knew which end the mouth was on.
“I don’t know,” Daddy naturally replied. Daddy knew the fascinating fact that Roly-Polies are crustaceans, but he didn’t know the mundane facts of what they eat. Children never ask the right questions.
“How do you not know what Roly-Polies eat?” Big Man asked. (“How do you not know?” is becoming one of his standard questions as he discovers how many basic curiosities Daddy is unequal to.)
“How do you not know?” Daddy asked in rebuttal.
“I never went to the high school,” Big Man asserted. “You went to the high school, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Daddy confirmed. “I went to high school, but not to the one where they tell you what Roly-Polies eat.”
Big Man shook his head at yet another of Daddy’s maddening ignorances. “I’ll ask Mommy.”
Now, Mommy is pretty smart, but her knowledge of bugs revolves around how to neutralize them before they bite, sting, or burrow into an ear canal. “Mommy may not know,” I told him.
“What?” Big Man asked in exasperation. “She didn’t go to the high school either?”
If we have many more of these conversations, Big Man may become convinced he is the first generation in his family to graduate preschool.
And since he’s in the first generation of his family that didn’t jump straight into Kindergarten, that little son of gun would be right again.
Snoozing on the Sofa 
This is hilarious.
I hope he stays that curious for all his life, and that he doesn’t decide not to go to high-school just because Daddy and Mommy don’t know what those bug eat.
Btw, they eat decaying or decomposed plant matter, sometimes live plants, as well as shed snakeskin and dead bugs.
Next time when a question is asked and you don’t know the answer, excuse yourself for a moment and GOOGLE IT!
No thanks. I’d rather not be on Google 24/7. I’ll just say I don’t know, take my lumps, and move on to the next question.
Dads use to say “ask your mother” now they say ask Alexa. FYI, they eat dead vegetation.
Thanks for the info, Tom. Or should I call you Alexa?
Very funny tale. And I’d say you are smarter than you think. I actually took Entamology at MSU and cannot easily tell the difference between Rollie-Polie and a similar looking millipede. After all, it is rude to unroll them from their privacy ball.
What anybody does in their privacy ball is none of my business.
It seems you may have to go back to preschool and get your degree. One might need to know what roly-poly eats so as to survive in this world.
The only flaw in your reasoning is that the evidence suggests they don’t teach that in preschool.
But. And yes there’s a “but.” If a kid were to ask a teacher, I’ll bet the teacher would make it part of a class lesson, or even a field trip…
As long as Roly-Polies don’t eat ME, I’m not real concerned with their dietary habits. I don’t remember that being covered in high school science. Maybe they called them by their formal genus and species (Rolius Polius?) and that’s why it isn’t ringing a bell. I appreciate that you’d rather take your lumps than be on Google 24-7. Ignorance really is bliss sometimes, like not Googling how many people were murdered by Uber drivers while you’re riding in an Uber. 🙂
I don’t mean to tell you how to Google, but shouldn’t you be investigating how many people were murdered by your particular Uber driver?
Scott, your stories are always so endearing. You’ve got another smile on my face. Your little ones are growing up and so fast! I know that bug as the “potato bug” and to this day I still call it that. Why I don’t know. I have many in my gardens and even I do not know what they eat. So you see, even those of us who yes have gone to high school and then some, don’t know everything. That’s OK. Tell your son that life is meant to be a mystery. IF we knew everything, life would be boring. (wink)
Thank you, Amy. He plans to know everything by the time he finishes high school, and there’s no talking him out of it. So this should be fun.
All I can say is good luck to that young “man”. 😂
Thank you. I’ll take it.