Today Owen and Eleanor were both in the bedroom, doing schoolwork. Owen was taking a math quiz on-line, and Eleanor was working on her writing. She was proudly telling me about her newest sight word when Owen chimed in.
"How old was I when I started learning to read?" he asked.
"About 4" I said.
"When could I really, truly read?"
"About 4, actually"
"Kudos for me!" he yelled. "Reading at 4!"
The unspoken "And Eleanor is 7 and still learning!" hung in the air...
"Yeah, you're really good at reading." I said. "Everyone has different strengths and intelligences."
Eleanor sat on the bed for a moment. "Mom..." she said. "How old was I when I learned to tie my shoes?"
"About 5."
"And how old was Owen when he learned to tie his shoes?" she said in a sly voice.
"He still doesn't know how." I sighed. "Everyone has different strengths and intelligences." I obliged.
Eleanor just grinned. Owen decided to go back to his quiz.
I'd call it Even-Steven.