I was helping my oldest child study for a test recently when I casually mentioned that I never had to learn the particular lesson he was studying. He looked at me and, in a tone that I believe can only be produced by incredibly pretentious nine years old snots, said, “Only the kids in the gifted and talented program learn this, so…”
“Well,” I said. “I used to be in the gifted and talented program when I was in school and we didn’t go over this then.”
“What? You were in the GT program when you were in school?”
“Huh? I didn’t know you were smart.” I think it was the complete sincerity in this comment that made me wish I was fabulously rich so I had a will that was worth writing him out of.
“Believe it or not some people still think I’m pretty intelligent.”
“Really?” More sincerity. “You don’t even have a job. What’s the point of being smart if you don’t use it for anything?”
That was the moment I decided that my oldest son would never be my favorite.