This week, we had teacher conferences for Little Miss. We went, as we had some questions about things on her report card and recommendations for summer school. As always, her teacher went through Little Miss’s work and discussed her in general before asking if we had any other specific questions.
As we went through her artwork, I had to giggle. While I was able to sort of translate the first one (only because I knew what she was talking about because it’s one of her favorite things to do when she goes to my parents’ house), I was completely stuck trying to figure out what the majority of the rest of her writing was … trying to say.
Her teacher? No such issues. She simply flipped a page in the portfolio and read it like it was typed in a large font book. She didn’t pause or wrinkle her brow or anything.
Now, my handwriting isn’t exactly the neatest thing out there. I can read some pretty messy handwriting, but oh wow. I was truly impressed. Little did I know that teachers had a subset of classes on deciphering childish handwriting of mispelled words. True talent.
I went sledding at my grandma’s house. To go sledding right into the bushes.
I were (sic) at the airport, and our plane went to Florida without us, so we stayed overnight. (She’s referring to this incident.)
I ate with my carpool buddy. (My Spanish isn’t near good enough to translate that to what she wrote below it, but it says the same thing – Patty? Anyone?)