Kafka's Demerit System
It's below freezing out there at the moment, and it's snowing. Sam says the salt truck just went by. So maybe I can get in to work, but maybe it's going to be too exciting. Many accidents are being reported. Many roads in trouble. No fun. But hey, I know! Let's take just a little moment here and ponder demerits, instead. Maybe by the time I get in the car the salt truck will have come by again.
The child brought his report card home yesterday, with few surprises. He got an "A" in handwriting, which I found bothersome -- I hadn't until then wondered if he'd gotten switched with some other baby at the hospital, but clearly he's not actually mine. No, wait, none of the other babies probably weighed in at 10 lbs 11 ozs. Somebody would have noticed. "Oh, my God! This child is humongous! AAAAUGH!" We would have heard screaming up and down the hall. (I, on the other hand, was prepared, having been in on the process for some time before the actual birth. Though I did appreciate that C-section, let me tell you.)
Where was I. Oh, right, the report card. So there was the "A" in handwriting, which was weird, and there was the "C" in gym. Now the "C" in gym we were more or less ready for. The child got a "C" in gym not because he's no good at sports -- though that would have been unsurprising -- no, he got a "C" in gym because he keeps forgetting to take his gym bag to gym class and then he can't participate.
Why is he not allowed to walk back to his room and get the gym bag? I do not know.
Is he fibbing here, and forgetting his gym bag on purpose, because he despises gym? Possibly, but we think unlikely.
More to the point, why is it that, when the entire collection of children in his homeroom lines up for gym, with their gym bags in tow, he does not notice that EVERYBODY else is toting a gym bag, and quickly run to get his? He does not know. I gather his mind is Elsewhere.
That's the part that worries me, frankly. So sometimes we add into the prayers, "please help the child notice when everybody else in his room is toting a gym bag, so that he can remember his." We'll see how this turns out, next grading period. This may be beyond divine help.
But anyway. Along with the report card, he got a little blue certificate congratulating him on not getting any demerits this grading period. I asked him if any money was involved. He says no. What! No prizes? What the hell!
He then offered the information that his teacher had run out of demerits yesterday. Oh, really. So what, I wanted to know, happens, when the teacher runs out of demerits? Is that like a free time period? Are you exempt from demerits whilst the teacher is demeritless? I urged the child to try it out, just for the sake of experiment. Spit on the floor or something, I said. See what happens. He refused. Damn.
But he also volunteered the information that one of his cohorts has been receiving a BUNCH of demerits, some for not doing his homework, but then demerits added on to those for not getting the demerits signed.
I am enchanted. A Kafakaesque demerit system. This could go on forever, couldn't it? Demerits for not getting the demerits for not getting the demerits for not getting the demerits for not getting the demerits signed. Little Catholic children fall into demerit hell.
I'm going to need frequent updates, clearly.
In the meantime, my child's no fun at all. The one and only demerit he's EVER gotten -- and he's already in third grade! Time's a-wastin'! -- was for that time he threw his pants at the wall (scroll down to December 11 -- the blog's in need of archive wrassling).
Now, that was an excellent demerit. But he's failed to come up with anything nearly so anarchically creative since.
But if he'd only failed to get it signed, we could still be dealing with it. Damn. Missed opportunity.
Next time, I'll know better.
The child brought his report card home yesterday, with few surprises. He got an "A" in handwriting, which I found bothersome -- I hadn't until then wondered if he'd gotten switched with some other baby at the hospital, but clearly he's not actually mine. No, wait, none of the other babies probably weighed in at 10 lbs 11 ozs. Somebody would have noticed. "Oh, my God! This child is humongous! AAAAUGH!" We would have heard screaming up and down the hall. (I, on the other hand, was prepared, having been in on the process for some time before the actual birth. Though I did appreciate that C-section, let me tell you.)
Where was I. Oh, right, the report card. So there was the "A" in handwriting, which was weird, and there was the "C" in gym. Now the "C" in gym we were more or less ready for. The child got a "C" in gym not because he's no good at sports -- though that would have been unsurprising -- no, he got a "C" in gym because he keeps forgetting to take his gym bag to gym class and then he can't participate.
Why is he not allowed to walk back to his room and get the gym bag? I do not know.
Is he fibbing here, and forgetting his gym bag on purpose, because he despises gym? Possibly, but we think unlikely.
More to the point, why is it that, when the entire collection of children in his homeroom lines up for gym, with their gym bags in tow, he does not notice that EVERYBODY else is toting a gym bag, and quickly run to get his? He does not know. I gather his mind is Elsewhere.
That's the part that worries me, frankly. So sometimes we add into the prayers, "please help the child notice when everybody else in his room is toting a gym bag, so that he can remember his." We'll see how this turns out, next grading period. This may be beyond divine help.
But anyway. Along with the report card, he got a little blue certificate congratulating him on not getting any demerits this grading period. I asked him if any money was involved. He says no. What! No prizes? What the hell!
He then offered the information that his teacher had run out of demerits yesterday. Oh, really. So what, I wanted to know, happens, when the teacher runs out of demerits? Is that like a free time period? Are you exempt from demerits whilst the teacher is demeritless? I urged the child to try it out, just for the sake of experiment. Spit on the floor or something, I said. See what happens. He refused. Damn.
But he also volunteered the information that one of his cohorts has been receiving a BUNCH of demerits, some for not doing his homework, but then demerits added on to those for not getting the demerits signed.
I am enchanted. A Kafakaesque demerit system. This could go on forever, couldn't it? Demerits for not getting the demerits for not getting the demerits for not getting the demerits for not getting the demerits signed. Little Catholic children fall into demerit hell.
I'm going to need frequent updates, clearly.
In the meantime, my child's no fun at all. The one and only demerit he's EVER gotten -- and he's already in third grade! Time's a-wastin'! -- was for that time he threw his pants at the wall (scroll down to December 11 -- the blog's in need of archive wrassling).
Now, that was an excellent demerit. But he's failed to come up with anything nearly so anarchically creative since.
But if he'd only failed to get it signed, we could still be dealing with it. Damn. Missed opportunity.
Next time, I'll know better.
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