We have four new baby chicks. Of course they're new. It's not like we're going to have old chicks. I'm turning into my mother. I used to rib her about saying somebody had a new baby. "It's not like they're going to have an OLD baby, now is it?" My wit was wasted on her. Perhaps on you, as well.
In case you've never been up close and personal with baby chicks, they cheep a lot. A LOT. Which reminds me of a story from when Genius was in kindergarten. His teacher contacted somebody who raised chickens so she could get some fresh eggs. Every year, she brought in an incubator so the kids could see the miracle of chicks hatching. Once they were all out, she kept them in the classroom for a few weeks.
Genius was a good student. An adult pleaser. He acted like a little politician. Or perhaps a salesman. Before I could stop him during his preschool year, he had the middle school secretary out in the parking lot, opening up the doors to our new car, explaining the child door locks to her. I asked her why she left her desk for that, and she said, "But he's so persuasive!"
The kindergarten teacher put the box of newly-hatched chicks next to the table where Genius sat. She thought she was doing this as a treat for him, I'm sure. Or maybe to give him something to do when he was bored. She was, after all, the teacher who referred him for testing in the gifted program. "He just seems more mature than the other students. And they irritate him. He thinks of himself as an adult. Those are usually my gifted students." Indeed, she had quite a successful track record with her referrals.
About a week after the hatching, I mentioned the chicks to Genius. "Do you like having those chicks in the classroom? Are they fun to watch?" We did not have chickens at home back then.
Genius sighed. "All day long, it's CHEEP! CHEEP! CHEEP! I never want to hear another chick in my life. I wish we could get rid of them already!"
Funny. Genius does not enjoy our chicks the way Hick, The Pony, and I enjoy them.
8 comments:
What a sweet story. Your son does sound like a genius.
Donna
Stay away from old chicks. They wear too much make-up, lots of hair spray and polyester pant-suits. Cheap, cheap, cheap.
Very good that Genius has a teacher who recognizes his abilities and that your school has a program where he can get away from those dang chickens.
My son sometimes rode a taxi or a "short bus" to school (part of the desegregation program) in kindergarten, and he got the taxi cab driver to pay him a dollar for each trip. The driver said (jokingly) the dollar was for the directions "The Boy" gave him; I think the dollar was to bribe my son to keep his mouth from talking nonstop.
Cheep-cheep-cheep all day would drive me nuts. I'm with the genius. I taught a preschool genius/prodigy twenty-five years ago. I just knew he would go on to do be very successful. He dropped out of college and formed a band. He is happy and broke, but oh so happy.
I agree with your son. I think those chicks would drive me nuts.
Donna,
Around here, we call him The Absentminded Professor.
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Leenie,
Good advice on the old chicks! It made me think of my idol, Dolly Parton. Except she's the antithesis of cheap. That's where she got her signature style, though. From the town prostitutes. No word on how cheap they were.
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Sioux,
If only I could find a way for Genius to MAKE money FOR me instead of TAKE money FROM me! You need to write a child-rearing book.
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Linda,
Thank you for crushing my dream of Genius ever becoming self-supporting. I WILL NOT give up my basement for him!
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Stephen,
I can hear them from INSIDE the house. And they are inside their own little house, fifty yards away.
This is interesting how the teacher was able to deduce that the Genius was a genius. I think I will use it from now on.
Josh,
Yes, always assume that a self-centered kid who is annoyed by his peers is gifted. You can't go wrong there!
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