And he can, and he does, every time. Later I point out to him that after he does master a new skill, things which once seemed difficult are almost always achievable with ease, given practice, given patience. He doesn't fully appreciate this. It won't matter that I'll remind him he once couldn't add double numbers, because he'll be too immersed in his latest challenge. These are the memories that stop me when I get impatient with Henry's impatience, when I see him struggle to reach for that mental light switch we both know is right there, waiting to be permanently clicked on, turning difficult tasks into second nature.
Second grade is harder than first grade.
It's a genuine watershed year, when teacher coddling diminishes and number two pencils are wielded, for the first time, far more frequently than crayons. Second grade is hard, Henry.