Colin’s homework is getting harder. Sixth grade was our last year of forced reading time. I thought we were never going to make it through those books — but how I long for them now. Now we have pre-algebra and mixed fractions and frog dissection parts and a haiku assignment on the art of Mongolia. I am exhausted by the end of homework time. I can’t imagine how Colin feels.
Being a man of predictable habits, every day when Colin finishes his homework and his Bible memory work, he asks the same question, “Should I practice piano now?” Every day my answer is the same, “Yes, go ahead.”
And I listen to my son play piano. He plays beautifully. He plays effortlessly. He plays without struggle or argument, brain strain or strife. He doesn’t want my help. He doesn’t need my help. I couldn’t help him if I tried.
We both heave a sigh of relief at piano practice time.
(I meant to take a serious photo, but Colin was laughing so hard at me, I couldn’t resist this one.)