This is Eric. He is 9. He's my son and I think he's smart. He thinks he's a genius. I didn't know he thought this until Thanksgiving time when my nephew, Chandler, asked his dad (my brother) if it was true that Eric was a genius. I've always known Eric took pride in his brains. The biggest complement you can give him is to call him "a nerd". He thinks it is funny. Partly because he is nine, and partly because it's true. Last year, in 3rd grade, he came home and announced that he was president of the Dork Club. He belly-laughed as he explained that the only kids he would allow in were his friends that would agree to be dorks. He is an above-average student and has a talent for learning quickly, but I suspect he's pretty normal.Since he proclaimed himself a genius, John and I have had to give him a few lessons on humility (this is a little difficult for John, being that Eric's confidence level is genetically linked to John's). I had to explain that there is no "monopoly on smart" and that he is not the only intelligent family member under our roof. He was a bit insulted when I suggested that he is not necessarily the smartest of our foursome. He said he'd be willing to take an IQ test. I'm hoping the confidence thing pulls him through the awkward social stages he is heading toward!
Some other facts about my little guy--
He's one of the most spiritually sensitive kids I've met. He has a very tender conscience and I've never met a more honest person. It makes us feel the pressure of responsibility to help him nurture a close relationship with Jesus.
He loves everything to do with army guys. He loves reading books about the civil war and he runs through our yard for hours with his wooden rifle ordering his "men" around. The cars passing probably think he is a little lunatic. We think it is hilarious.
He has every Dilbert cartoon book as well as Calvin and Hobbes. He will read and re-read them, laughing his head off each time. He loves running to John and reading the funniest strip he can find. John laughs like crazy right along with him--I'm not good enough at pretending to be amused over and over by the same thing and John doesn't have to pretend.
I'm betting on a career choice of either a rocket scientist or a preacher. That's my boy.
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