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Polygons and Heptagons...Oh My
Today was a banner day for my little nephew Sean.
He had his favorite Aunt with the same first and last name attend his
special person school function. Sean and I are old hands at this sort
of thing as we attended the same event but at a different school last year.
The first performance of the day was a concert and Sean had the honor of singing
solo. I was very proud of him in his smart suit and tie and un-laced shoes. He had
managed to keep clean for the better part of the drive to school and looked every
inch the Vienna choir boy minus the alter server outfit of course. My husband, Craig had absconded
with my camera so I was left with the "photo" component of my new cell phone. I managed to
figure out the camera/phone with no problem and was ready for Sean's performane. My nephew marched out
and placed himself right in front of the choir leader, unfortunatley, she was blocking my view.
I moved, Sean moved, we played this back and forth shuffling of places several
times until I was finally able to see Sean. I snapped a few photos for his parents and began to think
of snack time.
We walked to his next class but not before Sean had had time to treat me to a
hot chocolate at the school lunch room. He neatly spilled chocolate down his
sleeve, and, he assured me no one would notice. I advised him to wash the spots in cold
water and was ignored. We marched to class where Sean declared that he could no longer
abide his dressy clothes. He thoughtlessly wadded up his suit coat in his back pack
until I gently reminded him of his mothers warning to hang up the coat.
We worked on polygons and heptagons in math class. This was ridiculous, Sean is in fifth grade! I began to seriously
sweat when the teacher advised the students to bring out their compass and
protractor. This was not good for me, I looked feverishly at my watch, a half hour
to go. Just as I had feared, the teacher suggested that we might like to help our charges in their
studies. I hastily made a quick exit to the bathroom where I remained for a good long time. When I
emerged the class had started on their origami project,, my past inadequacies of spatial
problems began to haunt me. The teacher encouraged us to measure all angles;
this was the stuff nightmares are made of.
Finally the teacher wondered if we, the guests might like to relay our favorite
fifth grade math stories. Oh God, this kept getting worse and worse. All of the
guests were World War II generation, most of them are a bit hazy but they are
united in one thought. No one had to do this level of math until high school.
I began to feel a bit better when it is my turn. I told the kids the importance of the
multiplication tables and percentages. Students looked at me like I was some kind
of numbskull but I stand by my statement. One does need to figure out the
tip.............
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