BY WHITNEY COLLINS

This parody column is written by a mom who would like to homeschool if she knew how to teach something beyond remedial breakdancing, limerick writing, and quesadilla making. Oh, and palmistry.

HOMESCHOOLING LESSON #4: CAREER COUNSELING ELECTIVE

Hey, kids! You know what's one of the best things about being homeschooled? No, not the bacon, Elijah. Or wearing pajamas, Catelynn. Or drawing on Mommy's face with a Sharpie while she takes her mid-morning nap. Come on! Get serious, chickens! It's the electives! Yes! The many, many electives offered by me, to you, that help prepare you for the real world.

For example, if you went to parochial school, do you think there's any way in hell you would have learned how to install (and break) a wicker ceiling fan (or how to pronounce the profanity that accompanies the process)? And, if you went to private school, trust me, you'd have absolutely no idea how to get a Frisbee off the roof using just a pair of pantyhose and a power washer. Not to mention, if you were a public schooler, you certainly wouldn't have been on the many enlightening field trips that this homeschool has offered, most notably: The Mattress Store, Schlotsky's, and That Crappy Playground With What We Think Was A Poop In The Tube Slide. So, never fear my dears, today's elective is no less illumniating. Today, I'm a career counselor. And you're going to learn all about the Wide, Wild World Of Work.

First. Take note. The Five Most Dangerous Careers are as follows:
1. Kamikaze Pilot
2. Crab Fisherman
3. Lion Tamer
4. Proctologist
5. Charlie Sheen

And next. The Five Highest-Paying Careers are, without a doubt:
1. Kid With A Neck Brace Crying On The Street Corner
2. Kid With A Neck Brace Playing A Violin On The Street Corner
3. Kid With A Neck Brace Playing "Taps" On The Bagpipes On The Street Corner
4. Kid Doing A John Travolta Impersonation On Oprah
5. Mark Zuckerberg

And finally. The Five Most Rewarding Careers on the whole, entire planet are:
1. Free-Range Chicken
2. Hula Dancer
3. Malibu Barbie
4. Grandpa
5. Shih Tzu

Shew. I think that's enough for today. Any more and I'll have to retire or at least go on unemployment. Now, run along. Go on outside and set up a lemonade stand. I want you to make enough money to buy some rubbing alcohol. We've got to somehow get this Sharpie off my face. And on that note, don't forget your neck braces!! 

HOMESCHOOLING LESSON #78262: LIFETIME SPORTS

All right. News flash. Swallow your bacon and pretend to listen. Today we're talking sports.

Yes, you might notice Mommy is dressed in nylon pants and has a whistle around her neck. And that I'm holding a clipboard and have put down my Baileys and coffee. I mean, Nescafe. That's because today we're going to learn all about Lifetime Sports.

A Lifetime Sport is different from a regular sport. A regular sport involves a helmet. A Lifetime Sport involves dice. A regular sport, shinguards. A Lifetime Sport, an ashtray. You get the drift. But if not, pass me the pork belly while you review this list:

Common Lifetime Sports
Cowpie Poker
Cross-Stitch
The Care and Maintenance of Indoor Ferns
Incontinence
Not Drowning

Yes, Elijah, you can add Mario Kart to that list. But, Catelynn? Really? Hopscotch? Please! Do you know what happens when a grown up tries to hop on one leg after a couple of cups of Baileys and coffee? I mean, Nescafe?

So. To sum up: a few final attributes of Lifetime Sports. They're repetitive, unpaid, and demeaning. There is no trophy or finish line. No laurel wreath or weight loss. No highlight or blooper reel. The only real benefit is you don't have to leave the comfort of your home. That, and you can typically still hold a hoagie in one hand.

On that note, Elijah, here's a laundry basket. And Catelynn, here's an iron. No. No need for a mouthgaurd. It'll just get in the way of the hoagie.

Happy sporting! (And heavy starch.)

HOMESCHOOLING LESSON #381: ENTOMOLOGY

So, kids. I don't know if you've been paying any attention whatsoever to The Today Show, but it just so turns out I'm not the worst mother in the world. I know!! Shocker, huh?! Yeah. So, the worst mother out there is actually what they call a Tiger Mother. The Tiger Mother makes her kids practice the violin for like four hours a day. The Tiger Mother refuses to buy a television. And all the Tiger Mother ever allows her kids for snacks are raw, unsalted Brussels sprouts served with a spork. What Elijah? How does a baby tiger play the violin? Like everyone else, silly! With a bow! Geez Louise. Are you paying attention?

So, you ask. If I'm not a Tiger Mother, what kind of mother am I? Good question, Catelynn. I'm so glad you're interested. Apparently, after much research on the first website that popped up on my Google search, I'm most closely related to the Burying Beetle Mother.

For starters, the Burying Beetle Mother lives inside a mouse carcass. (I know, I know. That doesn't say much for this little bungalow of ours, but I do what I can do with an early model Swiffer. Sure. I'd love a maid, but we can't afford one. Probably because your father is most closely related to the Brown-throated Tree Sloth of Panama.)

Anyway. Where was I? As I was saying, the resourceful Burying Beetle Mother lays her eggs around a mouse corpse, and, soon enough, the eggs hatch and the larvae move into the rodent's rotting flesh. The Burying Beetle Mother takes great care of her young larvae by eating dead mouse meat, regurgitating it, and sharing it with her babies. Now. Who does that sound like, kids? Who can you think of that's that generous? Me??? You're right! Just like I share my Domino's with you, the Burying Beetle Mother always shares her dead mouse vomit with her offspring! Don't I always, always give you my stuffed crusts? Yes, I do, thank you very much.

Now, true, the Burying Beetle Mother more often than not eats her own children. But she only eats the ones who annoy her. The squeaky wheels. The buggers. The kids who can't keep their pie holes shut. The ones who don't stop whining on the way back from Target about how I was so mean not to buy the Boba Fett sleeping bag that everyone else in Cub Scouts has. Those are the only ones she devours. For the most part, she's extremely loving and wise and patient. And when the larvae grow into beetles and move out of the mouse carcass, she always buys them their own, pre-owned, gently-used, scratch-and-dent iPhone.

Much better than a Tiger Mother, right?

OK. That's it, my sweethearts.

Now, who's in the mood for some bacon? 

HOMESCHOOLING LESSON #7290: MUSIC APPRECIATION

Good morning, kids. I thought today we'd do something cultural while we enjoyed our thick-sliced peppered applewood. So, come on outside on the back patio and gather 'round this 55-gallon drum, inside which I've built a small bonfire. It's time for Music Appreciation, and I can't think of anything cozier than the three of us huddled around a garbage can eating bacon with our hands.

You've probably heard of classical music even if you haven't actually heard it. So, let's just go on and rattle off the most notable of that bunch before we move on to things more contemporary. All you have to remember are the three B's -- Beethoven, Bach, Barbra -- and the three M's -- Mozart, Mancini, Manilow. There. That covers composers.

Now on to the appreciation part. You'll see that in front of each of you, I've placed a stack of compact discs. What are compact discs? Little Frisbees with music on them. What are Frisbees? For the love of Dan Fogelberg, who am I? Grandma Moses?

So, Elijah dear. Why don't you begin by reading the names on your discs?

What's that? Kenny G, 98 Degrees, Insane Clown Posse, Vanilla Ice, Creed, and Rick Dees' Single "Disco Duck"? Nice job, Elijah! Now. Throw them all into the fire. Yes, I said! Into the fire!

Ahhhhh. Can you smell the smell of burning poo? I can, kids! I sure can!

Catelynn, you're next. Who's that, you say? Richard Marx, La Toya Jackson, The Spice Girls, Yanni, Mike & The Mechanics, and Captain and Tenille's single "Muskrat Love"? Incinerate them! And fast!

Mmmm. Mommy loves the smell of burning, overrated excrement in the morning!

Now. Dust off your hands, kids, and let's go back inside. We'll tie up this lesson on Music Appreciation by listening to Exile on Main Street and Thriller. And just between the three of us, maybe a couple of Pointer Sisters' songs, specifically "Neutron Dance." It's brilliant. And don't let anyone tell you otherwise. 

HOMESCHOOLING LESSON#908: SEX ED

Let's face it, kids. Mommy would much rather discuss how to make a meatloaf -- buy Marie Callender's -- than how to make a baby, so we'll keep this short and sweet. I'm going to talk extremely fast, so as to disorient you and spare myself humiliation, and you're going to wear your iPods tuned to a little folk band called Led Zeppelin while you try to read my lips. Here goes:

A woman has one uterus, two ovaries, a (loud cough) vagina, a (louder cough) vulvalabiaclitorisurethra, and fallopian tubes. Every 28 days, the lady lays an egg, which, if it isn't fertilized, transforms into what some folks like to call a "monthly gift." So, really, the whole process is kind of like Easter, except the egg isn't chocolate and the gift isn't an iTunes card. No, it's an evil curse that can only be cured by howling, Kotex, and bacon.

A man also has a variety of parts, that have lots of fancy scientific names, but are most easily referred to as a "package." This also sounds like a gift, but don't be fooled. Most women would rather have strep throat.

From this package, the man produces special seeds that try their darnedest to fertilize a woman's egg. How do the seeds get to the egg? Well, it's kind of like talking a city bus. Anybody can ride and it's less depressing than the subway, but still, kids, until you're 30, Mommy and Daddy are driving you everywhere in this embarrassing minivan.

So, that's about all. I can tell by your glazed look that you haven't heard a word I've said, but, thankfully and rightfully so, you're completely mesmerized by the genius that is "Stairway to Heaven." Thank goodness. And I didn't even have to say the word "penis." 

HOMESCHOOLING LESSON #2: BASIC MATHEMATICS

Take it from me, the Art History major who decorates cupcakes for a living: IT IS USELESS TO CRY OVER MATH, KIDS. Cellulite and Extreme Makeover: Home Edition? Yes. But Math? Puh. Leeze. So without further ado...

Mommy's Ten Rules of Math:
 
1) Never, ever trouble yourself with any sort of math that involves the alphabet. Particularly because I have never seen a calculator with the ABCs anywhere on it. Except for "C." "C" means "erase"  or "clear" and sometimes "off" and other times "on." See what I mean? Horribly bewildering. No. I don't know what "MC" means. I think it might be a leftover button from a fast food cash register.

2) "Percent" is American for the French "per cent," which means per penny. You know, that brown coin that we throw around willy-nilly in parking lots and fountains? You only need to know percents when it comes to milk and tipping. Here's an easy trick: always buy heavy cream and always leave five bucks. This will keep you healthy and wealthy. Also. You don't need to worry about percentages when it comes to sales. Macy's is always having a sale.

3) Short division and long division, as well as fractions, can be handled by most iPhone apps. Subdivisions? I try to avoid them. All the people wear Bermuda shorts and try to sell you Tupperware. You're better off renting a room in a hostel if you can't afford a city apartment.

4) If a train leaves one station going one speed and another train leaves another station going a different speed, I sure hope they serve wine because you kids never appreciate the journey. It's always about the damn destination and even then, when we arrive, you're still complaining. Chablis, please. Keep it comin'.

5) Pi is 3.14. What is Pi? I just told you. 3.14. Oh. You mean, what does 3.14 represent? Hmm. I think three of something with just a smidgen more of it. Like if you told someone you were going to see them in three weeks, but it was really more like 24 days instead of 21, you might say: "See you in Pi!"

6) Rulers, old-fashioned wooden ones, when rubbed furiously on the edge of your school desk, can start a small fire. If you're ever stranded on a desert island, be sure to take a desk and a ruler.

7) Movie math: MMMCCCCLXXXXV.

8) Pythagoras did NOT invent the Pythagoream Theorem. But he did believe people were reincarnated as vegetables. Like eggplants. What an idiot.

9) Don't worry, kids. When it comes to practical math, you really only need to know one thing: how to balance a checkbook. What's a checkbook, you ask? Well. It's made out of paper and flimsy plastic and is about the length of a King Size Hershey Bar and it used to go in my purse, but has since been replaced by a debit card. What's a debit card? It's like a credit card, but it doesn't get you very far. Sometimes it has a little Snoopy hologram on it to make you feel better about being broke. Remember: you should always use your debit card to buy burritos and your credit card to buy vacations.

10) Lastly, don't get me wrong. Math anxiety is a very real, but very ridiculous illness. It is usualy cancelled out by a history slideshow or Spanish quiz and completely alleviated by the cafeteria's Taco Day. Oh, I forgot. You don't go to a school that has a cafeteria. Here. Have some bacon.

HOMESCHOOLING LESSON #87: UNITED STATES CAPITALS

I know, I know, kids. United States capitals. It sounds overwhelming, but you have to know this stuff. And seeing that a good dozen states have Springfield for a capital, it's not as hard as it seems. Plus, you can make up a song or a ditty or a mnemonic device to remember...What's a mnemonic device, you say?! Well, here! Let me get you started. For example, this is one that always helped me out when I was your age:

"You pick the tomatoes, corn, or watermelon. I'll yell bloody-murder. Isabel really thinks Nathan O'Malley tattletales. Happy Birthday, Wendy! Happy Birthday, Isaac! Tetanus. Diphtheria. Hepatitis."

That's short for:

"You probably think the capital of Wyoming is Yellowstone but it's really the name of that horrible babysitter we had back in the day: Helena."

So, see?! It's fun! Study up, kids. Make a jingle out of it!! When you're done, I'll take you out for ice cream. Clown cones, even! What more incentive do you need? Oh. Okay. If you insist. Twist my rubber arm. I'll take you out for bacon.

And here they are. I know them by heart. Didn't even have to use Wiki this time.

United States Capitals
Alabama: Montgomery
Alaska: Juneau (French for "Juno")
Arizona: Santa Fe
Arkansas: Baton Rouge
California: Disneyland (note: one word)
Colorado: Denver. Or is it Carson City? Scratch that. Carson City it is.
Connecticut: Springfield
Delaware: Springfield
Florida: Disney World (note: two words)
Georgia: Atlanta. Or is it Augusta?
Hawaii: Hawaii City
Idaho: Hey! Watch your language.
Illinois: Duh. Chicago. What'd you think? Another Springfield?
Indiana: Jones

Iowa: Des Moines (French for "haystack." Or maybe "drool.")
Kansas: Kansas City
Kentucky: Horseytown. Ha ha. Just kidding. Horse City.
Louisiana: Before Katrina, it was New Orleans. Now it's Galveston.
Maine: You think Portland, but it's actually Salem.
Maryland: Washington, D.C.
Massachusetts: Rhode Island
Michigan: Detroit
Minnesota: It's either one or the other. Go with your gut. But my money's on Fort Worth.
Mississippi: Who wants ice cream?
Missouri: St. Louis (French for "Jefferson City")
Montana: Vail
Nebraska: Ugh. Really. This is boring. Who wants ice cream?
Nevada: Las Vegas (French for a very bad disease that requires antibiotics. No, Elijah. Not trench foot.)
New Hampshire: West Boston
New Jersey: Long Island
New Mexico: Careful! This one's tricky! Frankfort.
New York: Remember. New York has five boroughs: The Bronx, The Catskills, Rochester, Times Square, and Newark. Its capital is actually in one of the nicer areas of Brooklyn, which is a suburb of Wall Street. What's Wall Street?! Jiminy Christmas! Have I not taught you kids anything about Charlie Sheen movies?
North Carolina: Savannah
North Dakota: Cheyenne
Ohio: Gary
Oklahoma: This is exhausting.
Oregon: Do we have any more bacon?
Pennsylvania: How about a Twizzler then?
Rhode Island: Catelynn, share with your brother.
South Carolina: I mean it.    
South Dakota: Share, Catelynn.
Tennessee: Then hand it to me.
Texas: Dallas
Utah: Wife City
Vermont: Montreal
Virginia: Here’s some bacon!
Washington: Mt. Olympus
West Virginia: Mmmm.
Wisconsin: Now get your coats, kids.
Wyoming: Helena

HOMESCHOOLING LESSON #931: UNITS OF MEASUREMENT

Good morning, kids. I'm running on half a Diet Pepsi and a packet of Sanka today, so don't say you weren't warned. And I see you forgot the bacon. Just to be safe, why don't we put away the knives?

So, today we're going to talk about units of measurement. You know, like ounces, kilometers, bushels, and jiggers. When I was your age, France was on the verge of taking over America, so for two years my school taught the metric system, which was fairly sensible and based on tens. Then we switched back to the other system, which appealed to bad guys, like drug dealers, and was based on little handfuls of corn. I don't know where it originated from, but if I had to guess, I'd say West Virginia.

Needless to say, Mommy and her classmates got a little confused back in the day. (Back in the day means about 30 years ago, by the way.) Anyway, I can't tell you how many cc's of truth serum are in a fathom, or how many sacks of confectioner's sugar fit into a 5K, but I've come to realize that unless you cook or jog (activities that are both fortunately prohibited in this family), there are only a few measurements you need to know.

With that said, why don't you two review this study sheet I've created on the back of the cereal box with a Sharpie, while I ransack the cabinets for caffeine? Elijah, here's a Kleenex for your hectare of boogers. And Catelynn, quit playing with your soupcon of Silly Bandz and get to work.

Measurements -- All You'll Ever Need to Know. By Mommy:

Fortnight: The amount of time we wait to see if that rash clears up on its own before going to the doctor. Give or take two weeks.

Block: As far as I'm willing to walk with a double stroller.

Jiffy: About 90 seconds. (Please note: Jiffy Lube is a misnomer.)

Ladies' size 0: Unattainable without plastic surgery.

Big Mac Index: According to Wiki, The Economist's Big Mac Index compares the purchasing power parity of countries in terms of the cost of a Big Mac hamburger. This was thought to be a good measure of the prices of commodities in the local economy, including: labor, rent, meat, bread, cardboard, advertising, and tomatoes. Kids, I don't know what an economist really does, but I do know that a Big Mac Snack Wrap has my name on it today. So, if you're good, maybe later we'll go to Mickey D's. Oh, who am I kidding? You can have a complete meltdown and we're still going to get Mommy's fix.

Donkeypower: 250 watts. About a third of a horsepower. Or how fast our Sedona goes.

32DD: See ladies' size 0.

Two Shakes of a Lamb's Tail: Two New York minutes

New York Minute: Faster than a jiffy.

FLACC Scale: Again, according to Wiki...What?! You can't homeschool without Wiki!! Or bacon or coffee or Bailey's or Twizzlers for that matter!!! Geez. Anyway, the Face, Legs, Arms, Cry, Consolability Scale measures pain for children between the ages of 2 to 7, or for individuals who are unable to communicate their pain, such as women in the throes of induced labor. The scale is scored between a range of 0 to 10 with 0 representing no pain. The scale has five criteria which are each assigned a score of 0, 1, or 2. For the record, if a Chickenpox vaccine is a 4, labor is a 427. Induced labor is 78909. So, suck it up, Buttercup. It's just a godforsaken shot! And you're getting a Dora sticker if you don't cry, for the love of St. Bastard!

Texas-sized: Obnoxious. See 32DD.

Pony Keg: 7.75 gallons. Like I said, I don't know what a gallon is, but a pony keg can fill about 82 Solo cups. Enough for a party with your seven closest friends.

Swig: Used primarily for Children's Motrin and Benadryl on spoonless road trips.

Peck: Uh. A handful of peppers. Duh.

Rasher: A whole lotta bacon. THAT WE APPARENTLY DO NOT HAVE.

To Infinity and Beyond: How much I love you. (When you're good, that is.)

Now, you'll be quizzed on all this tomorrow during The Young and the Restless. It'll be an essay test, cause I need enough time to see if Billy sticks it to Victoria. In the meantime, go study. I just found a shipload of Dr. Pepper that needs icing down in the sink.

HOMESCHOOLING LESSON #4782: ETYMOLOGY

Okay, kids. Let's move the boxes of Pop-Tarts out of the way, put The Young and the Restless on mute, and take out our etymology worksheets. No, not our Dora the Explorer sticker books. No, not Mommy's new People. Our etymology worksheets. What? We don't have those? Well, then, turn over the newspaper, grab a crayon, and start taking notes in the margin of the sports section. You're gonna love today's lesson! Elijah, iPod off. And Catelynn, pass the bacon.

Did you know that inside big words are other little words? That sometimes we can find clues to what a word means by taking it apart? Let's start with the word: "discourage." What do you see, kids? God, that's good bacon. Two words? Two inside "discourage?" That's right: "dis" and "courage." Because of this, we know this is not a French word or a Roman word or even a word from the Eskimos. No. This is a hip-hop word. As in: "Yo, homie. Don't dis my courage!" Any word that starts with "dis-" is, my darlings, for-shizzle a hip-hop word. Or maybe a rap one. Now. What's next?

How about this word: "mammoth." What do you see in that word? That's right, Catelynn. Moth! And what do you see, Elijah? Take that pencil out of your nostril and take a close, close look right after you lick the eraser. That's, right, Elijah! Mam!! So, what do we think this word means? That's right. It's a "moth" who is also a "ma'am." So, this word means "lady butterfly.” I guess a "woolly mammoth" would be a lady butterfly that needs to shave.

Anyway. How about this word: "satellite?" What can you hear in that word? I hear "saddle," don't you? And I hear "light," don't you? Well, it sure doesn’t take Clint Eastwood to figure out that a "satellite" must be some sort of a lantern that dangles off a saddle! What's that, Catelynn? No, I don't know. I don't know how that relates to a satellite dish, but leave it up to you to bring up television in the middle of academics! Does someone need a couple of Twizzlers as incentive to FO-cus? Here you go. Two for you. Two for the other you. And three for teacher.

Okay. Just a few more lessons, kids, before we take a break for lunch. I know, it's only 9:15, but when you go to school at home, the lunch lady can open up the cafeteria whenever the lunch lady wants. And the gym teacher can have herself a little smokie behind the garage while she's still wearing her nightgown if that's what the gym teacher needs.

Now. Compound words. What's a compound word, you ask? Well, Elijah, if you pass Big Mama another piece of bacon, I'll tell you. It's when two words hook up to make another word. Sort of like when Mommy and Daddy hooked up to make you and Catelynn. Except, we didn't name you Rogerbarbara, did we? No, we named you after Mommy's favorite stepfather. And we named Catelynn after Daddy's high school girlfriend. Bacon, please. At least we have the cat who's named after Kevin. Oh, Kevin. Sigh, sigh, sigh. None of you knew him, but Kevin knew how to dance. Really honest-to-gobstopper dance. But let's not start in on a biology lesson or Kevin or dancing or how any of that relates to a pair of size 17 Converse and Mommy's chronic case of the what-could-have-beens. That's exactly why I pulled you two out of public school.

Now, where were we? Let's try some compound words. "Newspaper" is a "paper" that tells us the "news." "Sandbox" is a "box" filled with "sand." "Bedtime" is the "time" we go to "bed." I don't know what these two are, though. "Eyebrow?" "Thumbtack?" I've never heard of "ey" or "ebrow" or "thu" or "mbtack." This dictionary that came in the Honey Nut Cheerios box must be outdated! Motherscratcher, do I have a migraine!

Well, kids, I think that's our cue to stop for the day. How exhausting was that? I'm giving you both a gold star and a box of Nerds for your efforts. Myself? Three Twizzlers and a break in the faculty lounge -- also known as the broom closet. Now run along and play a round of Candyland, then lunch lady'll crack open a couple of Lunchables. And tomorrow we'll study physics in our pajamas. So, be sure to bring your Tinkertoys. And some bacon.