Now. In my defense, the reason the book was not put in her backpack, is that we were ACTUALLY reading it last night and studying up on the arctic wolf. Or wolf, as I don't believe there is a difference between wolves that live in Nova Scotia and wolves that live in Maui.
Just kidding. Wolves don't live in Maui, if you were testing my reading comprehension.
Regardless, we read and then researched it on the Internet (Bonus points!) to learn if the wolf had a predator. It does not. And then I forgot to put the book in the backpack, for which I received this version of the parental hand-slap.
The book is now in the backpack.
Oh, homework. I am coming to understand thee as my ministry in life--if by ministry, we are talking about the necessary, life-sustaining task that I do with a half smile, while simultaneously fighting the urge to cry and scream profanities. Because I don't know why "ph" sometimes sounds like "f" and other totally random crap that seems to comprise the English language. And I am TRYING to have G sound everything out, but honestly! Every fifth word is a multiple choice exam--long a, short a, silent e, y that sounds like a non-silent e. I'm beginning to think that reading is a high school level skill, and that G is at a serious disadvantage with a mother who MAJORED in English, but is really, REALLY angry at the guy who decided it was a good idea to make every other word sound nothing like the letters that comprise it.
Don't even get me started on math, and the genius who though it necessary to introduce fractions. The world would be a much better place if it operated strictly in whole units. I could run for President, based on that platform alone.