It was parent teacher meeting tonight for the eldest. We didn't get off to a very good start, with Eldest leaving his appointment list at home. But - wonder of wonders, we were EARLY. I repeat: we were EARLY. At least he remembered that our first stop was Mr Geography and while we waited our turn in the passage, he could text his brother who duly sent back the run down of which teacher we had to see when. Modern technology. Wonderful!
Mr Geography wasn't very friendly, barking that Eldest is immature and needs to pull finger. But it is true. At least the pulling finger bit. He barked that Eldest's CAT scores are very high, but his work does not reflect that. (I have no idea what CAT scores are and had to Google it when I got home. Where I come from we didn't do CAT stuff.) Onto Mrs English, who only had praises for Eldest, showing me his work and saying he is very well mannered. Hmm...seems not the same boy Mr Geography was talking about. Mrs English and I briefly discuss Africa. She is from Zimbabwe. We talk about the colour of African soil, the smell when it starts to rain, the blossoms in the spring and "Have you read Don't Let's go to the Dogs Tonight?" She starts nodding even before I have finished my sentence. Because we know. We understand. In only a way you can, when you are African.
On the way home Eldest tells me he thinks he should take Home Economics. I say he can do that on one condition - he cooks at least 4 nights of the week.
"Okay, maybe I'll do Science instead."