Educating BabyRat

The school that we've been sending BabyRat to is pretty interesting, not only do they have uniforms but the director enforces the dress code strictly by fining non-conforming parents. I found this out because WifeRat was having a little trouble following the dress code rules. WifeRat says that she follows the rules, but that's total BS; she follows the rules when she agrees with them, but when she disagrees with them then the rules are stupid and arbitrary, the rules are made to benefit capitalists, the rules prop up the penisocracy, the rules are anti-feminist, and so forth.

Coming from a military background, I have a different feeling about uniforms than other people in my house. A uniform is a source of pride and signifies that you're a part of something that's bigger than you as an individual. Wearing a uniform shouldn't be about doing as little as you can and still being in compliance. It's about how sharp can I look? How can I show my pride in myself and my organization by looking as good as I can possibly look in this uniform? This isn't something that my Father ever said aloud, but it was how he lived his life. Neat, clean, and fastidious aren't dirty words.

I swear The Director of this place would have been an awesome drill instructor. She has the trim build and precise manner of every drill instructor I've ever met. The Director would look amazing in one of those Smokey the Bear hats too.

High standards and high performance is the norm at BabyRat's school and I fucking love it!! The assumption is that every kid there can learn and will learn. Of course that's a lot easier to accomplish when you have a self-selected group of families that obviously place a premium on learning and education.

Lately they've been teaching BR's class about consequences and decision making. We found out about this a couple of weeks ago when BR got home from school and started complaining that she didn't get afternoon snack. As is often the case when you're talking to a three year-old, you get the important parts of the story but necessary in the proper order and some important information gets left out entirely. All I could discern was that BabyRat didn't get a snack because some of the other kids took too long.

WifeRat is, of course, distraught. If there's one thing she insists on for BabyRat, it's that she gets to eat and drink when she's hungry and thirsty. So the Wife is all fired up when she hears this, but I calm her down and promise to ask what's up the next day when I drop the kid off at school. The next day I speak to LMS and she tells me that the kids serve themselves at snack and that if there's a problem like the one BabyRat described then those kids go last the next day.

I'm satisfied with this answer and don't give the situation too much more thought until BabyRat starts whining about not getting a snack again a day or two later. Again, I have to talk WifeRat down off the ledge and promise to get more information. This time when I speak to LMS I ask a few more pointed questions about the whole setup for snack time and I finally get to the heart of the matter: the kids have like an hour long time frame when they can get their snack. If they fuck around too long and wait until the end of snack time, then they're short. When I explained all this WifeRat she was mostly OK with it, but still didn't like the idea that BabyRat might not get her afternoon snack. Which is kind of ridiculous because she BRINGS THAT LITTLE HUNGRY HEIFER SOMETHING TO EAT WHEN SHE PICKS HER UP.