My 10 year-old daughter, Clara, is teaching my 7 year-old son, Charlie, about author Mary Shelley and the writing of Frankenstein.
Also about the feminist implications of Shelley’s work as it relates to her position in both the world and her marriage during her life.
At 6:19 AM.
While playing Minecraft.
I’m not sure if the boy is really listening.
Also, I’m an English major. I am well aware of Mary Shelley, but I didn’t learn about Shelley until I was sitting in a class at Trinity College.
Also, Clara seems to know some stuff that I don’t know about Mary Shelley.
It’s weird when your daughter makes you feel both proud and stupid at the same time.
I’d feel sympathetic for Charlie for this early morning, uninvited, probably unwanted history lesson, but I’m still annoyed with him for siding with Clara on Sunday when we “stopped” at Starbucks for hot chocolate and the kids insisted that we sit for a while and read like the weirdos who talk about coffee like it’s not just a caffeinated beverage but some culturally significant way to spend time in public spaces.
Look at them. Squint a little and you could mistake them for old people.
Ridiculous.
