In Which I Ask for Help With Kindergarten Homework

I ran into a problem with Zack's homework. Yes, I know, he's in kindergarten. But I had a question about the instructions that made it impossible for me to help him complete the last page of his homework. It was okay, though, because they turn in homework on Monday, so I caught it in time. Normally, I would write his teacher a note in his planner. Since it was a math thing, I wrote a note, put it in an envelope, and sent it with him to school. No.big.deal. Except for the part that it's kindergarten homework and I felt a little silly having to ask for clarification. Whatever, I can accept that.

The kids went to school, and Ben and I talked to a neighbor, cleaned his perpetually dirty face, and went off to my Moms Club Board Meeting. At some point during that meeting we started talking about our kids, and school, and math (I think, or something that reminded me of math.) Suddenly, I remembered my note, and for some reason it occurred to me that I spelled the math teacher's name wrong. Without saying the exact name, it has both a Z and a B and I transposed them.

So, basically, in one fell swoop, I confessed to not understanding Kindergarten math AND spelled the teacher's name wrong. To think, I used to fancy myself intelligent.

This Mommy gig is humbling, if nothing else.