JimFormation

On the last day of fourth grade, my daughter came off the bus crying inconsolably.

“What’s the matter, Baby?”

“sob I got an F sniffle”

My daughter was then and always has been a wonderful, prideful student. She’s always gotten A’s, and would not have it any other way.

“An F? In what?” I asked.

With more sobs and sniffles, she handed over the report card. I opened it.

An A here and a B there. No F’s.

“Where’s the F, Baby?”

She took the report card from my hands, closed it and, tears still in her eyes, pointed to a spot on the front of the card.

There it was. Under her name, under her teacher’s name, and under her class room number:

“Gender – F”