The Joys of Children Are Without Number

Last Wednesday, Charlie went on a field trip to Biztown, a Junior Achievement sponsored program for elementary school students.

We pretty much had to use explosives get him out of bed, and off to school.

He has been complaining about the program, which is a part of his curriculum, for weeks. He thought that it was a complete waste of time, and he has been scheming the whole time to find a way to ditch this.

Eventually, we made it clear to him that he wasn't going to get out of it, and when I dropped him off at school (his delaying tactics made him miss the bus), I explained to him that whether he liked it or not, he'd enjoy it a lot less if he went in to the experience determined to be miserable.

I spent the entire day expecting a call from administrators about him having a melt-down.

When he got home, he said that he loved Biztown, and he wants to do their summer camp.

Great googly moogly, this was a lot of tsuris (aggravation) for nothing.

Excuse me now, while I bang my forehead against the monitor.