How Homework Gets Done at My House

Catherine, Called Birdy cover image

My son’s reading Catherine, Called Birdy for his 7th grade Language Arts class. The book is set in medieval England and written in the form of a 14-year-old girl’s diary.

“It’s got no theme, no plot, no flow, no fun, no nothing!” the boy says. “It’s gay!”

I sympathize with him — it reads like a 13th century MySpace blog — but that doesn’t change the fact that he has to read it.

“I refuse to read this book!” he says.

“You can’t,” his mom replies.

“I have a restraining order! Catherine has to stay 10 feet away from me.” And he tosses the book into the middle of the living room.

I look over at my wife . . . her eyes are now closed and she’s biting on her lower lip, accompanied by a slow, dramatic intake of breath, all of which suggests that clowntime is just about over . . .

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