Why am I telling you this? Or, better yet, why am I still bitter so many years later? I'll leave the second question for future psychotherapy, but as to the first question, well, Dancer Girl is now taking geometry. Since she is in 8th grade as compared to my sophomore year geometry experience, the reader can assume that my quest to marry well in the math department so as to pass on better genes to my children has succeeded. Thank you Adventure Guy, engineer. Tonight, for the first time since leaving Mrs. R's class (and going on to do quite well in Algebra II and Pre-Calculus and well as 6 hours of college math thank you very much) I was faced with the prospect of geometry homework. Dancer Girl had some questions and said, "I'll wait until Dad gets home and get him to help me." In an effort to dispel the notion that Mom can't do math and therefore convey somehow that girls in general aren't as good at math as boys, I said, "Well, I can take a look." She demurred until I added, "And, your dad won't be home until late, so you're kind of stuck with me."
P. S. That hot guy? The senior trying to get out of geometry? She passed him. I'm convinced it was only so that she never had to see him again (particularly after that little incident with the scantron for the exam from first semester which he was auditing that spelled out "Merry Christmas Mrs. R). Oh, the injustice of it all. But I'm getting over it, really, I am.