With school starting for Jessie in January, I figured it would be wise to get her brushed up on some skills before she dove into UH.
I enrolled her in a general computer class. It’s the usual Microsoft how-to selection. She had to learn Word, Power Point and Excel.
True to form, she complained about it constantly. However, she breezed through the class, which was a relief.
I knew she was smart, but I wasn’t sure if she could stand attending a class.
Every day I’d bug her about what she was learning.
“How’s it going?”
She’d reply with a stare.
Jessie actually has a number of “stares” she uses to communicate with me. There is the “I hate you” stare. There is the “You must be a moron” stare. My personal favorite is the “Please die” stare. Maybe one day I’ll get the “I’m going to rip off your clothes” stare.
I’m joking. I’ve got some morals. Sleeping with the person you are suppose to tutor has to violate an ethical code of some sort, unless you are a female teacher in Florida.
I asked her to make me chart or graph on Excel so I could see what she’d learned.
I got a new stare. It said: “Are you kidding me, asshole?”
It’s true what they say, a woman’s stare is worth a 1,000 words.
To her credit, she sent me this 30 minutes later:
Not too bad. There was even a little bit of math thrown in. I’d like to think I’m at least a “5” but, you know, the girl is entitled to her own opinion.