Outside
A few days ago I found a light-green notebook in the basement. A drawing of a large Maple leaf graced the cover. It was done in pencil, but the edges were outlined with a felt tip pen. It was titled Leaf Collection. I set this on my coffee table, and my wife never looked at it or made a comment. The point is that not everyone likes leaf collections. But that's not why I'm bringing this up.
I don't like to study. I felt the same way in the eighth grade. Reading the required textbook in class one time was enough. No homework for me. One particular teacher handed out grades based on homework. She gave us a textbook to read that she never opened. I know this because I tested her, but that's another story for another day. It's amazing how little backbone grows in a dull teacher with no real desire to learn, let alone teach. I am 33 now, but I presume this type of situation still happens.
One of the homework assignments I refused to do involved collecting leaves. We were supposed to obtain, categorize, paste, and present the decomposing matter to the teacher. Not me. No way.
I forgot to throw the homework requirements away. I know this because my father found them on the Sunday morning before the project was due. I was out catching crayfish or something. Well, Dad decided he was going to help. He collected the various leaves, researched, categorized, and pasted them to notebook paper. He even put them in the notebook. Dad set this on the table next to a couple of tree books. He had marked sections of text that I could use to describe the leaves and their trees. I did just that.
According to the red ink on Page One, this twenty-one page collection of lobes, leaflets, and twigs deserved an 89%. The only thing she wrote next to the score was "...too many fruits..." It was a perfect collection, and she knew it. I never showed my dad that note, but I did tell him the score. I think I'll show him the leaf collection this weekend, and thank him for helping me out. I might even tell him how I took dissected frog parts and put them in a science teachers brown lunch bag.
That was almost 20 years ago. Procrastination is still my major vice. In a funny way, Dad still does my "homework". It's appreciated.