I clean the kitchen after dinner while the boys do math and piano with their Daddy. I can hear them giggling and teasing each over the sounds of the plinking piano. I poked my head in last night and had to take their picture. They’re so cute.
Their favorite is when someone writes a backwards 3 or 9.
They develop this weird math-time camaraderie.
I don’t think math is ever that fun, but I would like to think that the children will grow up with fond memories of hanging out with their Daddy in the evenings, doing long division. To me it makes a classroom seem even more uninviting. The other day Gideon remarked, “I had better get good at this so I can teach it to my kids someday.”I have always thought that homeschooling is so difficult because we don’t really have a precedent for it. We all start from scratch and muck our way through. But I love the idea of my boys growing up seeing their father involved in their education. To know that someday they will have the same responsibility. And then to take it for-granted, that that’s just what men do.