Stars in the grass

Mama, what does dew look like?
Well, sweetie, it looks like that.
Yes, but what does it look like?
It looks like water droplets?
Yes, but what does it look like (hoping that by accenting a different word, I would get the point)?
I don't know. What does it look like?
It looks like stars in the grass.

I am know officially, the mother of a third grader, and I feel a bit old. Little Clover's report card came in the mail and he had an excellent year. I'm still amazed at times with the little gems he throws my way, like the one above. We had that conversation the other day as we were walking from the car to the door early one morning. The ground was heavy with dew and he told me what it looks like. I was taken aback by his little bit of poetry and I smiled. Maybe, just maybe, there is a little bit of an artist in him yet.

He then proceded to tell me about how he came to this conclusion one day at school while completing a review book, and how his answer was marked wrong. He also completed the sentence "The leaves in the tree look like" with the phrase "a million dollars," which was also marked wrong. I told him I thought those were brilliant answers and he agreed and didn't know what was wrong with his teacher for not thinking so as well. I was very relieved that he wasn't bothered by the wrong marks he received, and I was also indignant at the failure of his school to take the chance to promote his creativity. Often times, it seems, schools tend to focus too much on perfect test scores and the rote memorization of facts and they forget to teach children how to think. As a parent, I can do my bit, but it would be nice if free thinking was also encouraged at school. At least I now have a summer to mold him as I wish.

On the note about feeling old because I am now the mother of a third grader, Little Clover reinforced my feelings with a flippant comment. We were out and about and he took a look at the denim mini skirt, polo shirt, and Birkenstocks I was wearing and remarked, "You look like a college girl." I asked if that was a good thing or a bad thing, and he replied, "Kinda, in the middle." I'm not sure if a mom isn't expected to wear denim mini skirts or if a "woman of my age" isn't supposed to dress in such a manner. I'm really hoping it's the mom thing. His comment is especially funny to me because when I was pregnant with Little Clover, I remarked about how I didn't want to dress like a mom. Mrs. Soprano expressed her wisdom by telling me however I dress, I would be dressing like a mom to my child, and she was right. To Little Clover, a mom either wears business attire or pajamas, but not in a mini skirt. I'll make a note of that.

Fortunately, to Little Clover, a mother does spin and knit. Unfornutely, his mother has not been knitting or spinning well as of late. I've started and ripped out the Fancy Silk Sock about five times now. I think I've gotten over what ever bad mojo I had and have now knitted a whopping half inch. Hooray! Little things still make me happy.

Where are the pictures?
The pictures are missing for a couple of reasons. First, I really don't think the web wants to see pictures of me in a mini skirt. I may be wrong, but I doubt it. Secondly, a progress of half an inch on a sock is just not that exciting. Instead, I'll post some really wonderful pictures tomorrow. Hopefully, you'll be teased into visiting the blog again. I apologize for my miserable lack of involvement in eye candy Friday, but I think the story above is worth a thousand pictures.