Thursday, 9 June 2016

What I go to school for...

Many of you are in the same boat as I am, having a 'legally an adult' living in your house who is in the throes of exams. 

Son number two is the last one to go through A levels, the final gate on the path to his university of choice.  Returning home yesterday afternoon after a particularly arduous Psychology exam, he was moaning at full pelt about how daft the exam was, only testing him on 7% of everything he'd learned over the last year.  I said to him that the equivalent in a driving test would be scrutinising the Highway Code for six months, then passing just for knowing which side the petrol cap was.  It's not a true reflection on the quantity of information rattling around in that brain of his.

But still, he's doing all he can to get the 'scores on the doors' of the university, and they'll be lucky to have him.  After three months, the guy who runs the Student Union will be able to retire to the Bahamas after the huge increase in his takings, and the woman who runs the canteen will be needing a larger lorry to deliver the weekly food order.  I would imagine that the coin-fed washing machine in his block would be covered with cobwebs and dust through disuse, and he would have resorted to selling non vital organs to supplement his student loan (having spent the lot in the first four days on cheap Polish beer and Frosty Jacks).

But I am concerned...  What if he doesn't get the grades he needs?  What if, instead of being in the library revising, he's been in the pub drinking?  What happens then?

He stays at home, that's what.  This could be awkward, as I have already written out the 'For Rent' advert for his room. 

I am sure that he will get what he needs to get that university place.  But if he doesn't?

Well I hope he doesn't mind sharing...
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