Irony

The instructor for the Lego Club at school finally installed a piece of software that Tyler recommended last year. Yesterday she called Tyler out of class and had him teach her how to use it. She was so impressed with his knowledge that she asked him to come to Lego Club today to teach some of the other students. (Tyler decided not to join Lego Club this fall because he felt there were too many kids for the amount of Legos they have.)

When I went to pick him up this afternoon, the instructor stopped me and told me what an amazing job he did. She said he stood in front of approximately 40 of his peers and delivered an excellent presentation and demonstration of the software. She was really impressed and said she'd like him to return the next few weeks to help out. On my way to find him (he was still on the computer), two other adults stopped me to praise Tyler. I was really proud of him.

On the way home he told me all about it. As he was winding down he said, "You wouldn't believe how hard it is to teach a bunch of kids who are talking, crinkling their mini-oreo wrappers, and chewing with their mouth open. Then they all seemed to decide they needed to get up and throw their trash away at the same time." At this point we were getting out of the van. I caught his eye, we looked at each other for a moment, and then we both started laughing. One of the most common complaints about Tyler's behavior at school is that he won't stop talking or making noises.

The irony was not lost on him.