Are You Smarter Than a Kindergartener?

When our kids were younger we used to have “Family Game Nights.”

Also known as “Family Trauma Nights.”

Thanks to a game called, “Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?” 

“How can you NOT remember that North America is a continent?” I asked my 8th-grade daughter, trying not to explode. “It’s the one we live on!”

And it wasn’t just geography. 

Her lack of knowledge knew no boundaries.

Fortunately, she made it through school and now has a successful career.

As for me, I recently went back to work as a Kindergarten aide.

I enjoy working with kids, and kindergarten seemed like a low-pressure gig.

Sure, they had a lot of questions, but most of them were alphabet related.

I was crushing it.

However, two weeks in, the kids started asking REAL questions.

“If the moon’s not a planet, what is it?” 

“Why do we sometimes see it during the day?”

“What’s it made of?”

I knew the answer to the last question.

Obviously cheese.

But the first two were stumpers.

They stared at me, wide-eyed, waiting patiently for some moonly wisdom.

“Snack time!” I announced.

They scampered off, and with a little help from Google, I can now discuss the moon with the best and brightest on the kindergarten playground.

Last week, the teacher introduced a unit on trees.

As we identified the parts of the tree, “roots, branches, leaves,” I nodded along with the kids.

We were ALL crushing it!

Then the teacher asked, “What makes the leaves fall off the tree?”

The room grew silent.

Come on kids, this is easy.

They fall because it’s fall.

However, I soon learned they fall because they lose their chlorophyll. 

Huh.

Isn’t chlorophyll what kidnappers use to abduct their victims?

What sort of diabolical lesson was this?

Google set me straight.

Ah, Chloroform.

Our next unit was farm animals.

A couple weeks into our unit, we took a trip to the local farm.

Thanks to Old MacDonald, my farm knowledge was solid.

“Baby pigs are called piglets,” I announced. “Oink-oink!”

“A donkey is like a horse, but not a horse.” I let out my best bray, “Hee-Haw!”

It was going well until we arrived at the chicken coop and ran into the school principal.

She listened as the kids cross-examined me on bird facts.

“Wow, those are some really good questions,” I said, wiping sweat from my forehead.

I shook my head.

If only the principal had seen me at the donkey stables. I was killing it.

However, what I lacked in poultry knowledge, I made up for in street smarts.

“Hey kids, why don’t we ask our principal these great questions?” I suggested.

The kids smiled and turned to the principal.

“Can roosters fly?” “Do hens have teeth?” “Are they ALL chickens?”

The principal turned to me, a glazed look in her eyes.

And then it dawned on me. 

I’m not the only one dumber than a 5th grader.

Or in this case, a kindergartner.

Also…

Maybe I should apologize to my daughter.

It appears the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Just don’t ask me to identify that tree.