–noun, plural sche·ma·ta[skee-muh-tuh or, sometimes, skee-mah-tuh, ski-] sche·mas.1. a diagram, plan, or scheme.2. an underlying organizational pattern or structure; conceptual framework.3. (in Kantian epistemology) a concept, similar to a universal but limited to phenomenal knowledge, by which an object of knowledge or an idea of pure reason may be apprehended.
Or, in Kindergarten terms, it's your ability to understand or remember something.
Now, let's roll back a few days. Kylee wasn't in a particularly supper-friendly mood. We let her get up from the table with the understanding that when she got hungry later, she had to come back and eat some more of her main course before she can have anything else (including dessert). That sort of agreement is never a problem when it is made, but later, well, it doesn't usually go so well.
Anyway, the bargain was struck and she left the table. Sure enough, an hour or so later, Kylee told me that she was hungry. The conversation went something like this:
"Dad, I'm huuuuuungry!"
"Okay, go grab your plate from the fridge and help yourself."
She busied herself with a nibble or two.
"I ate my dinner. Can I have something else now?"
"How many bites did you eat?"
She thought for a second, adding up the nibbles. "Two."
"Eat a couple more bites -- BIG bites -- and then you can get something else."
"But you said I only needed to eat two bites!"
"No, I never said how many bites you needed to eat. I just said you'd have to have more of your supper before eating something else."
Now the volume ratcheted up. "But Daaaaaaad, you said I only had to eat two bites!"
"I don't recall every saying that."
"Yes, you diiiiiid!"
"No, I did not. I just said you had to eat more of your supper. I never said how many bites you had to eat."
Then she dropped the bomb. "Daaaaaaad, you don't have any schema!"
It was at this point that I impressed even myself. If you know Kylee, you know that she hates it when people laugh at her (unless she's telling a joke, which is a topic for a whole different blog post). I mean really, really hates it. Even if it's a genuine amused/approving chuckle, she feels embarrassed and scolds the offending chuckler in no uncertain terms about how IT'S NOT FUNNY, and usually storms off in a huff to underscore just how UNFUNNY it is.
So, there I was, arguing with her about how many bites of supper she needed to finish, and she whips out this new word, schema. Of course, I had no idea what she was talking about, but I didn't even crack a smile...
"What?"
"You don't have any schema!"
"What do you mean by that?"
"You said two bites, you don't have any schema!"
...don't smile...not even a little bit...keep face studiously neutral...
"Kylee, I'm sorry, but I don't understand what you mean by schema. Can you explain it to me?"
***SIGH*** "It means you don't remember what you already said."
Ah-hah! I hadn't forgotten what I had said earlier, of course, but that's irrelevant. We finally resolved the issue and went on with the evening, but it made for a good story to Mommy later that night. A day or two after that, Lindsey overheard Kylee accusing Connor of not having any schema, either, because he apparently didn't remember the *ahem* rules of the game they were playing (which she was making up on the fly, I'm sure). Lindsey commented that it was really no surprise that it was all the males of the family who didn't have any schema. I couldn't really argue.
Anyway, Kylee's teacher, Miss Mac, would be proud to know that at least one of her pupils has firmly grasped the concept of schema, and is applying it regularly to daily life.
Also, if I ever forget anything from now on, my excuse will be that it's not my fault, I simply don't have any schema.
The world would be so much more dull if it wasn't for six year old girls.
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