X+Y=A Big Margarita

The homework pressures of parenting are sometimes overwhelming—or at least make ya’ want to enjoy several large El Presidente Margaritas at the local Chili’s, far away from the cares at home (belting out Broadway tunes and doing my Tommy Tune imitation would be far less than a remote possibility at the end of such an event).  Tonight was such a night.

 

I remember the first time the first 7^th grader brought home some Algebra for me to help with.  Now, I was not accustomed to helping children with Algebra, so it was quite a shock when the homework was way more advanced than that I had been forced to go through 30 years before somewhere in high school.  Thank God for Dr. Math at mathforum.org and a friend in Canada, Sacramento, and Arizona.  Between our mutual feeble brain trust, he finished the first assignment—these friends included a J.D., an M.A., and a B.A.—of course, they were all more accustomed to the softer arts—you know, Contemplative Buddhist Thought and Lower Germanic Medieval Basket Weaving.  I basically told him that I was there for him anytime—as long as it was social studies, English, or P.E.  I did know how to score in bowling, after all.

Though, I must admit, when geometry came up, I did a bit better.  I just took him out to the pool table in the garage to give him some practical application and provide him with an effective method to help put himself through college when the time comes. 

You’d think I would have gotten better as the final juvenile has reached the 7^th grade, but I haven’t.  I still break out into a cold sweat when the math book comes out and start speed dialing the math posse.  Tonight, I barely survived yet another night of cutting up teeny, tiny geometric pieces and figuring out where they go and in what order, and so I’m out of here.  See ya’ at Chili’s, I’ll be the one reminding you there’s no business like show business.

As long as algebra is taught in school, there will be prayer in school.
~ Cokie Roberts

 Published on: Nov 29, 2006