Thursday, October 9, 2014

I Have My Mind On My Math and My Math On My Mind...And, As A Result, I Need A Gin and Juice



I've been curiouser and curiouser about my third-grader son's math homework because it appears that I am becoming -- in my middle age --  dumber and dumber.  His voice drips with scorn, pity, and disbelief that I could possibly have lived this long this dumb, "Poor Mom, you really don't know how to add, do you?"  

I swear that I do. I pay for his orthodonture. 

Furthermore, I can add the correct fl. oz. to a party-sized punch bowl to make Mother's Ruin, an old fashioned velvet hammer of Champagne, gin, and grapefruit juice. But I see the point is neither here nor there. I digress. Plus ice. I forgot about the ice.

Genetically, of course, I'm a knuckle-dragging dumbass, and I come from a long line of knuckle-dragging dumbasses and who were just smart enough to reproduce before we tripped on a mammoth tusk and fell into a ice crevasse. But aren't we all?

I am not alone.  In this NBC piece about the new New Math, a parent calls the common core math the "devil's handiwork."  Now, I don't believe in hell, but I do believe in a good joke.  

Have you heard the one about a 40-something mother, none too bright, her nine-year-old son, and the math worksheet? 

It's a real thigh-slapper. 

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