My Six-Year-Old Daughter Finally Gets Her Turn to Come to Work with Me

I took C. to work with me today. Unlike her older sisters, she actually listened to at least part of my lecture. (Her sisters are well-practiced at ignoring me. They do it all the time at home.)

Me, to the class: "FDR and his brain trust had three main objectives in launching the New Deal---"

C.: "Dad, what's an 'objective'"?

<Students giggle>

I explain. Then C. asks another question.

Me: "Remember how you're not supposed to interrupt me in the middle of class? Can you just write down your questions and save them for later?"

C.: "Okay."

I turn back to the class and keep on talking about the New Deal.

A little while later, C. rushes over to me mid-lecture to show me a piece of paper with an indecipherable question scrawled on it.

Uh, by "later" I meant after class, dear daughter.

In Which My 9-Year-Old Daughter Puts Me In My Place in Front of a Class of College Students

S. went to work with me today, which meant she got to sit through a two-hour college-level U.S. History class. But before sitting silently for 120 minutes, she called me out in front of my students for failing to count correctly.

I have 14 students enrolled in that particular course. At the start of class, I made a mental note of how many were present. Then I said, "Looks like we're missing five students today." And my math genius of a daughter said, "No dad, you're only missing four."

Me: "Well, there are only nine students here. That means five are missing."

S.: "No, dad. There are ten students. So you are only missing four."

I counted again and, sure enough, there were indeed ten students in class. My nine-year-old daughter can count better than I can. And proved it in front of ten college students today.

I think I'll leave her home tomorrow.

Little Miss "Elite Gold Honor Roll" Herself (straight A's all year long)