|| ON THE OTHER HAND
A CONTRARIO SENSU
Five plus two equals . . .
When one of our daughters, Holly, was 4, our grown son came home for a visit. As we sat around the supper table, Holly suddenly looked around and excitedly remarked, "Look, now there are five girls and two boys here!"
Trying to take advantage of a teachable moment, I asked, "And what does five girls and two boys make?"
Pausing for just a moment, Holly smiled and confidently exclaimed, "A family!"
El Paso, TX
Everything I learned in kindergarten . . .
A family friend, interested in our venture into the world of homeschooling, asked our kindergartner, "What have you been learning about in school, Stephen?"
Not quite sure how to respond, Stephen paused. He then answered respectfully, "Well, have you ever heard of the Industrial Revolution?"
Working out the bugs
My 7-year-old son and I were discussing immunizations. Suddenly a smile lit up his face as he grasped the concept.
"Oh, I see," he exclaimed. "The shot is like a demo and the disease is like the full version."
Mrs. John Turack
La Vernia, TX
When my son Ellis was 4, he proudly recited the colors of the rainbow one day: "Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violent."
Trying to correct him, I explained that the final color should be violet. But Ellis was adamant. "No, Mom, I'm sure it's violent."
Now I understand my son's insistence. According to my husband, the explanation is simple: red, blue, and violent are boys' colors!
Our son's mowing business thrived beyond his expectations. However, his practice of charging customers an even dollar amount proved to be a stumbling block during math review one day.
Finding it difficult to change a number from written form to digits and decimal point, my son finally announced, "I've been spending too much time on the other side of the decimal point."
As my wife Janet read a portion of I Kings 1 aloud, my oldest daughter Martha, then 5, was curious about what kind of creature King David's mule was.
My wife's explanation that a mule is half horse and half donkey didn't help much. Martha still wanted to know, "Is the horse the front part or the back part?"
Secret to fun math
Our 9-year-old daughter, Joanna, was helping me triple a pancake recipe. I asked her to figure out how much milk we needed.
Joanna thought about her answer for a few seconds and then gave me the correct amount, which happened to be a fraction. "That's right!" I cheered. "Good job, Joanna!"
With a big smile, she answered brightly, "It's fun doing math for no reason!"
White Pigeon, MI
Careful what you wish for
My 4-year-old, Hope, told me, "Mommy, I don't like the color of my hair."
Six-year-old Joy chimed right in with a lecture about accepting ourselves the way God made us. Reminding her younger sister that God doesn't make mistakes in the way we look, Joy said, "God wanted you to have the exact color hair you have. I used to not like my hair color either, but God helped me and now I like it. Hope, what color of hair do you want?"
"Green," sighed Hope.
Dearborn Heights, MI
Sometimes it's tough to measure up
One day while I worked on some husband-type projects for my wife, my 4-year-old daughter approached and asked me several questions about something she had learned that day during her homeschool lesson. Focused on the project, I paid little attention to my daughter's questions.
When she repeated her questions, I replied absently, "Honey, I don't know."
Shaking her head in disbelief, my 4-year-old sighed, "That's okay, Daddy, I'll ask Mommy. She's smarter anyway."
The speeding crayon
My kindergartner, Missy, had just colored a worksheet featuring road sign shapes. As we corrected the page, Missy pointed to a road sign that read SLOW. "I got that one wrong," she said sadly.
I asked her why she thought she had made a mistake.
"Because I colored it FAST," explained Missy.
Tinley Park, IL
As my husband and I cut steak in small pieces for our young children seated around the table, John, the baby, waited in his highchair. Since he still didn't talk much yet, he began to fuss and make impatient noises announcing that he was hungry.
My husband responded pleasantly, "Well, John, when you can ask me using three-syllable words, I will feed you."
To our astonishment, John immediately stabbed his tray with his forefinger and said emphatically, "Eat, EAT, EAT!"
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