“Elizabeth said she should get to be president, because she isn’t good at math and this way she doesn’t have to do any.” The Kid was reporting on the doings of the day at her school, and how the “investment group” she is part of went about deciding on officers and stocks.
“So what does a president — say, of the United States — do?”
“Well, which branch of government does he head?”
“Supreme,” the Kid said with conviction.
“Hmmm … ‘Supreme’ is not a branch of government, kiddo.”
The glazed look was back in her eyes, but we kept trying.
“What are the three branches of government?”
“Judiciary, legislative, and executive,” she rattled off rapidly. I suppose there is something to be said for rote learning … too bad it didn’t seem to extend beyond rote.
“And what is the executive branch for?” we prompted.
“He makes the laws,” our child answered confidently.
When The Kid was a baby, her grandfather assured us that because of her prominent frontal and occipital bones, she was one lucky child. She has a skull of silver and gold, my father said.
The Kid graduates from 6th grade in two weeks; perhaps I shall mutter her grandfather’s prognostications as a mantra: “Bones of silver and gold, bones of silver and gold, bones of silver and gold …”