At the end of our tutoring session, Ethan asked me if I wanted to know my rating.
When I first started working with him a few weeks ago, he was less than thrilled to have Saturday morning tutoring. To try to make sure it was as good as it could be, I started asking him how it was on a scale of 1-10. The first couple of sessions ran me an eight and a nine. My husband got a kick out of this.
"When are you going to come home with a ten?" he'd ask.
As we walked downstairs, I laughed at Ethan's question. I had actually forgotten to ask him. We'd both enjoyed our lesson. We read 74th Street by Myra Cohn Livingston together, and I surprised him when I said I didn't think the little girl was resilient and persevering--I actually thought she was fairly foolish. We spent a fair amount of time reading closely and debating. Ethan also had a couple opportunities to act out the poem. If you want to see something funny, get an eleven year-old boy to pretend to fall repeatedly while wearing roller skates, skin his knee, wipe the dirt, and spit on it.
"That was a ten," Ethan said as I put on my sneakers in the mudroom.
Looking forward to telling that doubting husband of mine!