“Mom, are spiders insects?” Sophie asks. Inquisitive by nature, my five-year-old is now a month into kindergarten and wants to know everything.

“Yup,” I say.

“Actually, they’re not,” she informs me with what sounds suspiciously like a sneer.

“They’re not?” I ask.

“Nope,” says the little know-it-all. (Well she did just totally set me up.) “Insects only have six legs. Spiders have eight, so they’re arachnids.”

“Insects have six legs?” I ask, wondering where she’s getting her information.

Is this what she’s learning in kindergarten? Really? Already? And more importantly, why? The kid can’t read or write or add or subtract or speak a lick of Spanish (and we live in Calimexico!) but someone somewhere in School Administration Land believes that exposing those sneaky arachnids as the posers they are is vital first-learning stuff.

“Yes, and they have three body parts. Spiders have two. And insects have wings and antenna. Spiders don’t have either of those.”

Do you see the memory capability of this kid? She could be fluent in six languages by now! Instead she’s a budding entomologist.

“Poor spiders,” I say, trying to deflect. “We should make them all little insect costumes with wings and antenna so they don’t feel sad.”

Naturally, she thinks this is a great idea. And now I’m totally screwed, and you’d better believe the PTA is going to hear about this.

Have you had your first oh-my-goodness-my-kid-knows-more-than-I-do moment yet?