Math.....
Just that word makes me cringe with loathing and distaste. A vile concept. One meant to continually lower your self-worth and your intelligence. Math taunted me with its ridiculous reality. Exactly when would I be watching two trains meet at the same point? Would I ever be putting 53 watermelons in my trunk and then eating 15 on the same day?
I don't like watermelon that much. It's sticky and you have to spit out the seeds.
However, even more loathsome than the concept of Math...more vile...more distasteful...more terrifying and utterly excruciating was...
Tutoring.
Tutoring for Math. Get a hammer and some nails and pound them into my eye sockets. I would prefer it. Maybe my teachers wouldn't want to come near me. Hmmm, this idea holds promise....
Of course, my mother didn't want to help with that AND she LOVED the idea of tutoring. "This will be perfect for you, Kara. This is exactly what you need. You're going to have so much fun!"
Was she insane? Did she understand what it was? Maybe I need to explain....
"It means I have to stay after school. For Math. You know what Math is, right?"
"Of course, I do Dear Heart."
I start wonder if my mom has it goin' on upstairs.
By now I have learned I can't fight my mom's big ideas. I must accept them, grit my teeth, and remember....this too, shall pass.
So, I went to tutoring with Ms. Harris. My Math teacher. She gave me cookies to ease the pain. They were chocolate chip, so it definitely helped. (I like snickerdoodle better, but I'm not gonna tell her that.)
Just that word makes me cringe with loathing and distaste. A vile concept. One meant to continually lower your self-worth and your intelligence. Math taunted me with its ridiculous reality. Exactly when would I be watching two trains meet at the same point? Would I ever be putting 53 watermelons in my trunk and then eating 15 on the same day?
I don't like watermelon that much. It's sticky and you have to spit out the seeds.
However, even more loathsome than the concept of Math...more vile...more distasteful...more terrifying and utterly excruciating was...
Tutoring.
Tutoring for Math. Get a hammer and some nails and pound them into my eye sockets. I would prefer it. Maybe my teachers wouldn't want to come near me. Hmmm, this idea holds promise....
Of course, my mother didn't want to help with that AND she LOVED the idea of tutoring. "This will be perfect for you, Kara. This is exactly what you need. You're going to have so much fun!"
Was she insane? Did she understand what it was? Maybe I need to explain....
"It means I have to stay after school. For Math. You know what Math is, right?"
"Of course, I do Dear Heart."
I start wonder if my mom has it goin' on upstairs.
By now I have learned I can't fight my mom's big ideas. I must accept them, grit my teeth, and remember....this too, shall pass.
So, I went to tutoring with Ms. Harris. My Math teacher. She gave me cookies to ease the pain. They were chocolate chip, so it definitely helped. (I like snickerdoodle better, but I'm not gonna tell her that.)
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