The other night Husband and I happened upon a TV channel broadcasting a Jeopardy-type quiz show with two local high schools locked in a battle of memory and minutiae. As the buzzers sounded and the answers flew, we added our own IQs to the mix.
I’m nobody’s dummy but Husband is ridiculously smart and even looks it with his rimless glasses, neatly trimmed facial hair, and button-front sweater vests. When people first meet him they ask if he’s a college professor and they’re partly correct although it’s not his day job. Because I can be academically competitive when the mood strikes, we were both calling out our answers along with the teenage contestants, and as you might predict, we each had our categories of expertise.
Mine was anything to do with literature, music or pop culture. Husband’s was science, history and math. The questions were difficult and his propensity for answering correctly got so annoying that I started calling out goofy answers to distract him. Like if it was one of those impossible mathematics equations, he’d lean forward intently and say “x equals 4.8″ and I’d yell out “The Louisiana Purchase!” On scenic drives, Husband is likely to note the passing landscape as ‘deciduous foliage’ while I’m much more the ‘Look! Horsey!’ type.
As in most families, both of my kids had their own strengths and weaknesses in school and I recall one memorable junior high school meeting with Son’s guidance counselor where we discussed his score on the standardized test that supposedly predicted what fields of work he would be most suited for in his adult life.
The guidance counselor was a very young woman who seemed a bit distracted and overly concerned that her hair was in place and her lip gloss sufficiently moist. She gestured for me to sit in one of the chairs facing her desk and gave me a shiny smile.
MISS COUNSELOR: I’m so glad you could come. You know, I’m new to the school so this is my first opportunity to talk with the parents. I’m still getting to know the students.
As she was speaking, a friend of Son’s walked by the doorway and gave me an amiable smile. I asked him how he was doing and Miss Counselor told him to come in and take a seat. He shrugged and plopped down in a nearby chair. I figured he had the guidance appointment after mine. Miss Counselor shuffled through a folder and removed one of the sheets and looked up at me. Friend occupied himself with a loose thread at the end of his shirt.
MISS: I have the test results here and I’m sure they won’t really surprise you. Your son scored much higher on tasks requiring fine motor skills than classic academics.
OSV: Really? I thought his grades were pretty good, but I guess you’re referring to athletics. Sports have always come easy for him.
MISS: Actually, his gross motor skills aren’t tested here but his mechanical thinking is off the chart. In fact, instead of looking at professions requiring secondary degrees, he should really be encouraged to hone the talents he has, like automotive repair.
In response to my blank stare she continued full speed ahead.
MISS: Your son also has an easy-going, compliant nature. A career demanding he be a self-starter would not address his particular skills. He’s much better at following directions. There are wonderful opportunities today in the technical fields.
Here she turned to Son’s friend, busy unraveling his shirt.
MISS: Tell your mom how much you love shop class.
He looked up and said, “Huh?”
OSV: This isn’t my son.
MISS: Then what’s he doing here?
OSV: Beats me.
MISS: (turning to Friend) What are you doing here?
FRIEND: You made me come in. You told me to sit down.
I reached across the desk and took the test she was holding out of her hand. It had Friend’s name at the top.
Just then Son appeared in the doorway and greeted everyone.
MISS: I sent for you twenty minutes ago. Where have you been?
SON: Phys Ed. It would have been rude to leave in the middle of class. Especially while we were winning.
That’s my son.
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