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I spent a week, well, actually five days filling out a form. Every night I had to fill in the title, the author, and the amount of time spent reading on this form.
It was called a reading log. It wasn’t my reading log, it was my kindergartner’s.
But, since my K-Kid couldn’t write yet and I wasn’t about to take the time at the end of a long day to teach him how to fill out this form - I did it. Every night “we” filled it out. I lie.
There were some nights that we didn’t read. So I faked it. Sometimes we got busy and by the time it was bedtime, I felt it better to get my kid in bed rather than read and of course I was the reader. So, I fudged sometimes.
That’s beside the point. My little boy would take this form to school, in his folder in his backpack and I am assuming someone would take it out of his folder and then he got a prize! He got a prize!
He came home with a pizza coupon. I stared at that coupon for a long time. I held that thing in my hand and all these crazy feelings coursed through me.
Envy. Anger. Pride. Pride? Disdain. Surprise. Disappointment.
Envy because my kid got a prize for his mom doing all the work. Anger because he got a prize for his mom doing all the work.
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