Homework Nightmares

I'm so happy the children are back at school and doing homework again - NOT.  Grady especially, despite his photographic memory - which actually does more harm than good - has the attention span of a gnat. Trying to get him to settle and concentrate on his homework is a chore requiring herculean effort on my part.

The burden starts soon after the kids return home, usually commencing with an innocent question "Grady, do you have any homework?". Typically the first inquiry goes unanswered, prompting me to try again, usually with the same result. I follow this with a full out bellow."GRAY-DEEE !! Do you have any homework tonight?" At this point the boy deigns to reply, "Dunno". By now, I've had enough, I retreat and let the matter slide until after dinner, lulling him into a false sense of security, but before he can leave the dinner table, I pounce. "Grady, check your backpack for homework". An exaggerated sigh followed by "In a minute". and I counter with "NO. DO. IT. NOW" in a tone that allows no argument. 

So finally almost two hours after my initial query, I manage to get him to sit down with his maths book. I celebrate by returning to the kitchen and clear up the dishes. Five minutes later I check up on him but the little bastard has escaped. Sidney the snitch informs me he is in his bedroom playing Legos. Time to bring out the big guns "Grady, what the **** are you doing ? Get your arse down here now and do your homework" This is usually followed by a threat of some kind, the severity of which is determined by my rapidly increasing bad mood. After five minutes and still no sign of my son, I am forced to march upstairs and bodily drag him back down to his homework.

It would seem that the delay tactics have only just begun. Grady manages to finish the first question but then tragedy strikes in the guise of a broken pencil. Five minutes to find a sharpener, another five minutes to determine that it won't work, and then ten more minutes to find another pencil, apparently any old pencil just isn't good enough. By now, I am more often than not in full blown curse mode, and my fingers are just itching to strangle him. While he arms himself with a new pencil, I in turn arm myself with a newspaper. No, I am not going to sit down and do the crossword, I am instead going to use it as a weapon. I would prefer to use a taser, but I believe there is a law against that, so instead I roll up the newspaper and smack him upside the head every time his mind wanders. I have tried other implements, but I've found the newspaper works best. It gives a satisfying "thwack" when it makes contact and doesn't leave a mark. I am more than happy to impart these tidbits of parental wisdom, feel free to use them.