Report Cards, Kids And Sanity

My twelve year old son is in the 6th grade and school soon will be letting out for summer vacation. This year hasn't been a very good year for him. Perhaps, some of it is due to him discovering hormones, which makes him think he's 21 in a 12 year old body acting 6. Being well known within my community, the trips have been endless to the school to check on grades. When we arrive, we are to sign in and receive a badge and return it before we leave. I kept mine. The school accepted this, I think they gave me a hormone exemption.

My worries have been tremendous in regard to my sons grades, because so much depends on them next year. No longer is he eligible to just play sports. The seventh grade and up is a totally different light, because one must earn their right to play, as with so many other aspects in life, it is an earned effort. Earning the right to play sports means that one must make above average grades. At this point, I'm not sure where he is standing with this. Last week he was doing fine. This week, he is hunting up homework passes.

Today I received the email below from a dear friend of mine, and when I read it, I thought Goodness.... this would be something my son would be cleaver enough to try. Then I looked at it in a whole different light, wondering if my expectations are to far fetched? Something inside me says " Well at times" But then again, there is a larger side to me that believes and is enforced that we as parents must push our children to become all that they can become, never settling for less and never subsidize laziness and lack of responsibility. Here's the email"


A father passing by his son's bedroom was astonished to see that his bed was nicely made and everything was picked up. Then he saw an envelope, propped up prominently on the pillow that was addressed to "Dad." With the worst premonition he opened the envelope with trembling hands and read the letter.

Dear Dad:

It is with great regret and sorrow that I'm writing you. I had to elope with my new girlfriend because I wanted to avoid a scene with Mom and you. I have been finding real passion with Stacy and she is so nice. But I knew you would not approve of her because of all her piercings, tattoos, tight motorcycle clothes and the fact that she is much older than I am. But it's not only the passion...Dad, she's pregnant. Stacy said that we will be very happy.

She owns a trailer in the woods and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter. We share a dream of having many more children.

Stacy has opened my eyes to the fact that marijuana doesn't really hurt anyone. We'll be growing it for ourselves and trading it with the other people that live nearby for cocaine and ecstasy.

In the meantime we will pray that science will find a cure for AIDS so Stacy can get better. She deserves it. Don't worry Dad. I'm 15 and I know how to take care of myself. Someday I'm sure that we will be back to visit so that you can get to know your grandchildren.

Love,

Your Son John

PS. Dad, none of the above is true. I'm over at Tommy's house. I just wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than a report card. That's in my center desk drawer.

I love you.

Call me when it's safe to come home.

Sometimes it takes something so simple as a email meant to be a joke to teach a lesson to the adults. I had one such lesson today.