Each Sunday evening, Simon and I go through his “Friday Folder.”  This is what his teacher puts in his book bag (not back pack, because as you may have heard, Simon is “not a back pack kid.”)  She wants the parents and kids to go through this folder and sign off that we’ve done so.  In the folder are announcements, any work the kids completed during the week, and his 100 site words that we are supposed to practice this year.  The goal is that he will be able to recognize all 100 by the end of the year.

Now, Simon being Simon, just reading those words is not enough.  So instead of just reading the word, Simon has taken the initiative to use each of the words in a sentence, thus ensuring that he understands the word in context.  He made this decision on his own.  And while my super English teacher nerdi-ness adores this quality in him, and supports his decision, the frazzled mom does not particularly relish in this practice, because it takes three times as long to get through this work.  The joys of parenthood.

This Sunday was no exception.  And this Sunday we got to the group of words that included colors and the “oo” words.  Good, book, etc.  May I point out, reader, that this Sunday was, by far, the most entertaining week of reading site words.

When he got to “green”, for example, his sentence was…well, not a sentence at all, but a song.  A SONG. He sang the Michigan State Fight Song.  All of it.  And highlighted the “GREEN and white….go right through for MSU” bit.

And then he got to “book”, and said, “My mom is a book reader.  She likes her books more than she likes people.”  Well played, sir.  And true.  Which made me want to point out to him that all this extra work he was giving himself was keeping me from said books.

But I did not, in fact, point that out to him.  I merely agreed with his statement by chortling, and waited for him to move on to the next word, because WHY, you ask?  Why, because I’m a good mom and I have a smart boy  [Hercules, Hercules! – clapping and cheering]  who could potentially provide me a comfortable retirement.  Or at least a room in his house where I can spend my days reading my books.