Toby was sent home the other night with his first ever
homework assignment.
Drumroll, please….he had to count as high as he could count.
I figured this activity would be an easy one and decided to
engage him in it this afternoon as we drove home from school.
It took about 20 minutes, but all on his own, he made it to
127. Yes, that’s right, ONE
HUNDRED AND TWENTY SEVEN. All in a
row.
Toby approached the task with a very serious, slow and
methodical, over-enunciated determination.
It was, quite possibly, the boringest undertaking motherhood
has ever presented me with.
When he hit 43 he dropped one of his raisins and I thought
the challenge was over. Turns out
it was only a brief 10 second reprieve before he announced that he was going to
go back to 40 and repeat 40 through 43 to be sure that he was still on the
right track.
When he got to 75 a strangely parked car appeared out the window. Again, a glimmer of hope came to mind,
but still the monotonous count went on right where it left off after we had
fully explored WHY this car was parked sideways halfway up Pretty River
Parkway.
At last he reached 99 and took a great pause before asking,
“What comes after 99 mom, TEN?”
“No!” I encouraged eagerly, “Ninety Nine is the last number
before….ONE HUNDRED! You did
it! You counted to ONE HUNDRED!”
But what came next?
You got it…
“One hundred…and ONE…”
Finally he reached 126 and rather abruptly announced that he
couldn’t count any higher because his voice was tired.
THANK GOD.
“Good, job, Toby!” I said, “Tonight when we get home we can
tell Daddy and write in your school agenda that you can count to One hundred
and Twenty Six.”
My concluding remarks were initially met with silence before
a quiet but still determined whisper came from the back of the car,
“One hundred and twenty seven…”
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