This morning as I was herding kids out the door to catch the bus, the eight year old burst into tears.
I turned my head to look, and she held out toward me her homework folder. The one that comes home Monday, and is turned in FIRST THING Tuesday morning. The one that was full of not-even-started, not-finished homework. The one I asked about last night, “did you get your homework done,” and was told “yes, I read my book on the bus.”
Her BOOK was done, her worksheets were not. She just plain forgot.