When our kids were young, I briefly considered home schooling. Then I was teaching our son to play piano, found myself with the John Thompson Book for Beginners rolled up in my hand, ready to swat him on the arm, and realized I was not home-school material.

We paid a neighbor for piano lessons. She taught all the kids in the neighborhood and never once swatted one of them with a piano book.

Here I am these many years later and home schooling. Sorta.

For several years we have been home schooling three of our grands on Tuesdays when their mother works.

We refer to our school as Old School. At Old School, we often begin the day developing culinary skills -- as in making a coffee cake. Welcome to home economics. "Careful with that crumb topping, girls! It's all about even distribution!"

Coffee cake won't be on a standardized test one day, but give these girls a box of blueberries and pantry staples and they will deliver the goods.

Following Baking 101, our three students heave their 90-pound book bags (which should count for P.E. credits) onto the kitchen table and unload books, books and more books.

Our primary function is to check their work. Their primary function is to check us checking their work. Then we check why they checked our work, and they usually go mum, which indicates they have had instructions from home that Grandma and Grandpa sometimes veer off the path.

Someone checked me this week asking, "What is a homonym?"

"You. Ewe," I said.

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