I just finished doing my homework.

No, I haven’t gone back to school. I’m not referring to the writing I do at my desk in my home office, nor the research associated with my writing. I’m talking about homework assigned by a school teacher—homework in its most conventional sense.

Seven-year-old “Jack” is in first grade, and that means he gets homework. At first, I applauded this introduction to the concept; homework skills must be learned, and I figured these early assignments would permit him to begin developing these skills now so that good habits would be in place when the heavier workload begins in a year or two.

But I didn’t realize how much homework I’d have to do, too.

For example, Jack has to read two books out loud to an adult each week, with said adult paying careful attention to his performance and assisting where necessary. He’s a good reader, so his books are somewhat advanced for his age. But he’s also seven, which means that depending on his mood, the readings can progress fairly smoothly or they can be accomplished with the same level of persuasion and frustration I feel when I finally get off my undomestic butt to dust the living room because company is coming only to find twenty minutes later that a new, fine layer of dirt has already settled on the coffee table. In other words, one of these books can take more than an hour of prodding before Jack and I are done.

This weekly reading is just one of the numerous, regular assignments requiring parental participation. Many others come home in Jack’s (or even three-and-a-half year old “Emmie’s”) backpack: Go to the store and buy a jar of peanut butter . . . by tomorrow. Trace your hand, cut it out and decorate it to make it look like a member of your family. Work out this problem, draw that map, construct a to-scale diorama of the galaxy and all of its stars. Review this policy, sign off on this activity, write down your goals, your thoughts and your questions about who your child is and what you expect him to be when he grows up.

And when it’s all finished, look at your highly intelligent children’s expectant faces and answer the question, “So, Mommy, what should I do now?” (I don’t know, play with one of your 1,345,874 toys?)

To be fair, I don’t mind some of these assignments. I actually enjoy working on Jack’s math and logic challenge sheets with him because I find that sometimes, frighteningly enough, they are a bit challenging. (I guess he’s going to have to find someone else to help him in later grades.) But sometimes I can’t help but think that having already done homework for twenty years—yes, twenty years if you include postgraduate education—I really ought to be done by now.

And that’s all the time I have for this post. I need to get all my other work done in case I have any homework tonight.