Boy, does this annoy me

Them: "So where does she go to school?"
Me: "Menlo Park Academy.  It's a community school for gifted kids in the Westpark area of Cleveland."

This conversation embarrasses Jason, who believes we shouldn't be advertising the fact that our child is gifted.  It smacks of bragging, he says, and he was horrified to hear Liza describe her school as being "for smart kids like me."

Apparently the fact that we're sending our child to a school for gifted kids SO SHE WON'T BE EMBARRASSED ABOUT BEING SMART has escaped him.

Or maybe he hasn't had the conversation 14,000 times, the way I have.  I've tried his approach, which inevitably goes like this:

Them: "So where does she go to school?"
Me: "Menlo Park Academy.  It's a community school in the Westpark area of Cleveland."
Them: "Oh, what's the focus of the school?" (which is always the immediate follow-up question, because charter and community schools are a bit topic around here)
Me: "It's for gifted kids."

If Liza attended a school for the arts, or a school for kids with developmental delays, or a private school, I would have no problem including that information in the answer, so why should the word "gifted" make anyone squirm?

I don't whip out statistics about how it's for kids whose cognitive abilities tested in the top 2% in the state.  I don't say my 5-year-old has an IQ only slightly lower than Einstein's.  I don't immediately tell people she's been reading since she was three and is now reading at an 8th grade level.  I don't allow Liza to compare her own performance - academic, physical, or artistic - to anyone else, for good or bad.  I don't say she's smarter than anybody else's kids, or act smug about it, or talk down about the local public school districts.  I answer their questions about the school fully and truthfully, without a hint of embarrassment.

Being gifted isn't an achievement to be proud of, it's just part of who Liza is.  She's blonde, has size 13 feet, is kind to bugs of all kinds, likes to tell fart jokes, and is gifted.  I refuse to let her think I am ashamed of any part of her, least of all her brain.

I swear, I can't leave him alone for 10 minutes

After hearing my husband say things like, "I need to be careful that I don't rush into buying a car.  I tend to nickel-and-dime little stuff and then buy big things fast just to get it over with," I was a bit reluctant to let him go over to the dealership by himself to have them assess the value of his trade-in.  Especially since "I guess I should get a new car before I have to go through the e-Check thing again in January" had morphed over the weekend into "I'd better hurry before all of the 2010 models are sold."

He test-drove some models, narrowed it down to the one he wanted, had me test-drive it, and decided that he got home early enough today to stop in and see how much they'd give him in trade for his Impala.  "You're not going to go buy a car while I'm ordering the pizza, are you?  You learned from the 'really awesome used Acura which you didn't notice had a bent frame until months after you bought it' incident of 1999, right?"

"No, I'm just going to have them look at the Chevy, and I'll be home for dinner."

***

Twenty minutes later, the phone rings.

"So, they're hitting me pretty hard here.  They offered me almost the maximum blue book value for my car and told me I can put down a couple hundred dollars in deposit and reserve one of the 2010s until I get back.  Should I stay here or come home?"

***

Five minutes later, the phone rings.

"When I said I needed to leave, they offered me $500 more for my car, and another $500 for some obscure rebate, if I buy tonight instead of waiting to start the paperwork when I get back.  What do you think?"

***

Five minutes later, the phone rings.

"How much do we pay for our mortgage every month?"

***

Five minutes later, the phone rings.

"Eight-forty, baby!  The lady's eyes just about popped out of her head when she saw our credit score."

***

Guess who will have a shiny new (red) Altima waiting for him at the dealership when he gets back from his business trip?

And guess who was sort of ticked to find out we'd missed the maximum possible credit score by 10 measly points?  If only I'd paid that $40 medical bill on time in 1998 ...

And guess who now has her eye on a Leaf to replace the LazyMamaMobile in a year or two?