Reason Number 896 that being a parent bites: You have to do things -- in the name of being a good role model -- you'd otherwise never do. And this happens all the time. Now that I'm a big 5th Grader my latest assignment is being able to name all 50 states. Is that all? Oh Nooooo! I have to correctly place them in the appropriate place on a map of the United States.
Of course, TinyTuna is in fifth grade, not me. But I can't help her if I don't know how to do it myself. And no, I can't put all the states on a map. There are a whole bunch of rectangle states that look EXACTLY THE SAME. Sure, I can do Florida, Michigan, California and Texas. I can probably get Oregon, Washington, Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio and Pennsylvania too. But after that? Kansas? Where is Kansas? I don't know. It's a rectangle state. I think. I don't even know.
Should I be able to correctly label a map of my country? I suppose. But I always figured my brain has a finite amount of space, and God created maps so if I should have to travel to Kansas, I'll know which rectangle it is because my Godly map will tell me so. Should I be able to spout off all fifty states? I suppose it would come in handy when I have to make my Miss America (BRING BACK THE TALENT, DAMMIT) scorecard. There is nothing worse than coming up with 46 states and then having to do a Google search for the rest.
So, I'm learning my 50 states. There are 4-A's, no-B's, 4-C's, 1 each of D, F, G and H...and then I fell asleep. All I know is there are a buttload of M's and N's. Darn North This and New That. And then I have to learn where they go on a map. By Friday. Ugh. What's a poor MittenTuna to do?
Maybe I can get some extra credit for knowing all seven dwarves. There's Grumpy, Doc, Dopey, Happy, Sleepy, Sneezy, uh...Sleazy, and...uh....that other guy.
It's going to be a long year.