Let's set the scene shall we?
Yesterday Spenser gets home from school and for some reason decides that I am in fact the perfect target for his rage, disgust, and any other negative emotion he might have. Ok, fine, whatever. He has been great at school, so you know, cracking up at home, while not pleasant I can do.
So we go get the movies I was asked to get, get some supplies for his class room, which are still sitting in my car, as of this writing, and make our way home. During this time out he has alternately been an angel, just sweet as pie, and a complete demon including the venomous sarcasm. It was as if I was watching Sybil in front of me, but in male 8 year old form. We get home, unload the car, well mostly, and he begs, begs for the neighbor kids to come over. Now normally that would have been fine, however, having just dealt with the beast from beyond, I am spent. I have no reserves of patience and I know it is best not to subject others to my pissy mood, and Spenser's vacillation between extremes.
Of course this does not sit well with the child. He argues, begs, screams, argues and begs. I hold my ground (yay me, I guess) and feel like a total schmuck. He chills and goes and plays on his computer. I am instantly relieved, not relaxed, but relieved. It soon is time to go retrieve Rob from the hell that is the J-O-B. (any job is hell you know).
We get home and I remind Spenser he has homework to do. He wants Rob to do it with him. I am grateful. Thank god. So he starts taking out all the papers of the book bag. Pulls out some test and starts to look it over and notices the big red D on it. And then starts muttering:
"A D, how did I get a D. The computer must have eaten my answers I know I answered them. I can't have a D. No, not a D etc., "
I ask him what he is going on about. He shows me and as I look at it, I see that it is not his paper. Someone else's paper got shoved in his backpack.
I make sure to show him, as he is on the verge of tears and a major meltdown. He feels better and I feel better. However I find it amusing that the 8 year old was so concerned with the grade. I guess it is a sign of the times, I know I wasn't all that happy when I got low grades, but I didn't flip out.
Oh yeah, it was a big deal because he got his report card on Friday--all A's, and S+'s S's and E's. It was fantastic! So you know it was a huge turn from that, which is why I was skeptical that it was his paper in the first place. Also he has told me he plans to get straight A's for the rest of his school life. Through college and such. I think that is a fine goal. One he did not inherit from me!!!
After the homework Sybil, I mean Spenser was fine.
All so very bizarre I tell you! Bizarre.