The local school district offers few varsity sports options for seventh graders, so on most afternoons, Owen comes home right after school. He gets an hour off to eat a snack and relax before getting on his homework. Once in a while, he and his bud Alex will fool around in the yard, but on most days he plops himself down in front of the computer or the television to clear his head, and prepare himself for all the stalling that he'll have to do after the hour has ended. Homework usually takes him two hours or so, longer if there is an assignment that he needs my help on and I'm not yet home. He must also practice his trombone.

Today, his great-grandmother was at the house after school urging (nagging, badgering) him to start his homework earlier, and explaining that he would do so much better in school, and feel so much better about it, and this, and that, ad nauseum.

In his gravest voice, delivered with no intentional irony:

"Grandma, I have straight A's."

"Oh, never mind then."

You had to be there, I guess.

But like loving parents everywhere across time, we applauded as if no children had ever performed better.