Tested

My son is a hunter. Even though his dad would rather shoot basketball than guns, and his mom is known only for shooting off her mouth, his Papaw has faithfully introduced him to everything from duck to deer hunting. And so, when he turned 13, it was time to legally license him. Which required taking the Hunter Education Course. I assumed that sense we live in a rural, hilly, and wooded area where local kids are born with a gun in their hand, that it would be easy to find an offered course. But you know what they say about assuming...

The only thing available was a 12 hour, 3 night course in the next town over.

I took him the first night, expecting a small group of boys to be taught a few safety lessons, and certified automatically. At 13, he was not required to have a parent stay, and I toyed with the idea of just dropping him off. But when we entered the basement of the Baptist church we were met with 40 or more men, women, and kids. And the instructor got up and told the crowd in a very serious voice that it was extremely important to pay attention because the test had changed and was now all essay, so if you were a good writer you should pass easily. My stomach dropped. Parker is good at a lot of things, but writing is NOT one of them. And then the instructor laughed...ha ha ha, just kidding...it's 50 questions, multiple choice...

Not funny.

I wanted to take one of those bow and arrows on the table and show him kidding.

But instead I just sat there by Parker through the first hour of chapter 1. When the class took a break I told Parker I was leaving for a while and would be back toward the end of the class. He didn't seem thrilled about it, but I didn't want to be a helicopter parent...you know the kind that is always hovering. My husband already accuses me of babying our son. I wanted to stay, but I felt like I had to go.

I drove around and worried. I knew Parker would pick up the information by listening carefully to the instructor. But he had to take the test on his own. His dyslexia causes him to misread things sometimes and I was worried that he wouldn't pass the test...not because he didn't know the answer but because he would misread the question. I considered talking with the instructor to ask if Parker could have the test read to him. That's what happens at school. But singling Parker out would just embarrass him. I fought back tears and hated again that this stupid disorder was creeping up in yet another area of Parker's life, making him struggle for what most people take for granted.

I got back just in time for the second break of the night and sat quietly by Parker for the rest of that class. And when we got home he hugged me and said, "Thanks for coming back and staying with me, Mom."

On the second night, I came prepared. I sat through every minute of the class and read halfway through a novel while Parker listened raptly, eyes never leaving the instructor. I forced myself not to lean over and underline key terms or star important points. And at the end of the class the instructor said, "Now about the test..."

My ears perked up.

"Every time we give this test, I make sure there is someone available to read the test to those who need it. I encourage you to take advantage of this. You don't want to fail the test just because you're not a strong reader."

I couldn't believe it! I hadn't said anything! God had taken care of it without any help from me. For the second time in as many nights I blinked back tears.

The night of the test, Parker went into a side room with a whole group of other test-takers and had the test read to him. He came out with a beaming smile on his face! "Easiest test I've ever taken!" he declared, as he showed me his Hunter Orange patch and certification slip.

I guess we both passed.