In which Sam learns about NYC Elite Preschools...
It had started at the playground. Sam was getting into the habit now that springtime had come of taking baby Michael to the park. He would lather the baby up in sunscreen - no skin cancer on his son - and then sit on a blanket in the grass.
Michael was starting to learn to sit up, so Sam would stretch out on his side, reading a book while he son was propped up against his legs and playing with a swinging toy that Sam had straddling them both.
A few feet away, two mothers were playing with their infants, teaching them a word and then showing them the sign for it. After a moment, Sam put down his book and watched them.
"What are you guys doing?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
"Sign language." One of the mothers looked at him. "Since Cynthia can't speak yet, it's a good way for her to communicate her needs to me."
"You mean crying isn't enough?" Sam joked... he learned that wasn't something to joke about real quickly.
The girl who's back was to him turned around, looking at Sam like he was an idiot. "Don't you know anything? These are the most formative years your baby has. You're supposed to get your basis for language and maths in otherwise they will fall far behind the other children."
"I hired a Hispanic nanny just so Cynthia can get a firm Spanish experience. Spanish is the second most-spoken language in the country."
"And my Ester already can say three words in French, Russian and German."
"What about your son? What can he do beyond drool?" The first girl was smug as she looked at Michael, who flashed her a bright baby grin.
"My son is happy. What do I care about languages right now?"
The girls looked at each other, and suddenly Sam felt he was back in high school and he had just said something wrong to the popular girls.
"You can't be serious. Wow, you really don't want your son to amount to anything," the girl laughed. "I bet you haven't even put him on a waiting list yet."
"Waiting list?"
The second girl rolled her eyes. "For Toddler School. Ester has been on Mandell's list since she was conceived."
"Cynthia is going to Field of Dreams."
"I bet you haven't even been to Elite yet..."
The girls turned back to each other, ignoring Sam now. "Guess we know one kid who won't make it into college."
So the experience brought Sam home early, and while Michael bounced in his chair, Sam was at his desk working like crazy. He had printed up pamphlets and forms and applications and was sitting now with a spreadsheet trying to figure out just how the hell he could catch his son up to these other kids before it was time to do the applications for pre-school.
None of this had existed when he was a baby... that or just because of how he grew up that Sam never had a chance to get into any of those programs. Either way he had a lot to make up for. He wasn't going to fail his son this early in life. Nope. He just had an objective now that he needed to strive for.
His son was going to get the best, and be the smartest kid ever. He'd make sure of it.
Michael was starting to learn to sit up, so Sam would stretch out on his side, reading a book while he son was propped up against his legs and playing with a swinging toy that Sam had straddling them both.
A few feet away, two mothers were playing with their infants, teaching them a word and then showing them the sign for it. After a moment, Sam put down his book and watched them.
"What are you guys doing?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
"Sign language." One of the mothers looked at him. "Since Cynthia can't speak yet, it's a good way for her to communicate her needs to me."
"You mean crying isn't enough?" Sam joked... he learned that wasn't something to joke about real quickly.
The girl who's back was to him turned around, looking at Sam like he was an idiot. "Don't you know anything? These are the most formative years your baby has. You're supposed to get your basis for language and maths in otherwise they will fall far behind the other children."
"I hired a Hispanic nanny just so Cynthia can get a firm Spanish experience. Spanish is the second most-spoken language in the country."
"And my Ester already can say three words in French, Russian and German."
"What about your son? What can he do beyond drool?" The first girl was smug as she looked at Michael, who flashed her a bright baby grin.
"My son is happy. What do I care about languages right now?"
The girls looked at each other, and suddenly Sam felt he was back in high school and he had just said something wrong to the popular girls.
"You can't be serious. Wow, you really don't want your son to amount to anything," the girl laughed. "I bet you haven't even put him on a waiting list yet."
"Waiting list?"
The second girl rolled her eyes. "For Toddler School. Ester has been on Mandell's list since she was conceived."
"Cynthia is going to Field of Dreams."
"I bet you haven't even been to Elite yet..."
The girls turned back to each other, ignoring Sam now. "Guess we know one kid who won't make it into college."
So the experience brought Sam home early, and while Michael bounced in his chair, Sam was at his desk working like crazy. He had printed up pamphlets and forms and applications and was sitting now with a spreadsheet trying to figure out just how the hell he could catch his son up to these other kids before it was time to do the applications for pre-school.
None of this had existed when he was a baby... that or just because of how he grew up that Sam never had a chance to get into any of those programs. Either way he had a lot to make up for. He wasn't going to fail his son this early in life. Nope. He just had an objective now that he needed to strive for.
His son was going to get the best, and be the smartest kid ever. He'd make sure of it.