Reports come home today after school.
Ah, Report Day, that day that comes around twice a year, where mums simultaneously beat themselves up about their child’s academic performance and take full credit for things they have no control over, like how many teeth said child has lost this year.
Also, the day where most mums find tangible reasons with which to beat themselves senseless about how bad a mother they really are.
You know, Little Johnny is a “delighful and entertaining little boy” which roughly translates as “he won’t shut the fuck up and distracts everyone”.
Yeah, I’m onto the polite, PC interpretations of report cards. Also, am onto the “normal” behaviours of little boys, including the abovementioned, the sticking of various substances in various orifices and the inabilty to speak sentences without using the words “bum”, “poo”, “wee” or “boobs” and thinking they are the finniest words alive.
Alas, I found yet another factor with which to prove my badness of mother. Yes, despite my children doing relatively well on their report cards, it was the bit on Godzilla’s that mentioned his “enthusiasm and involvement in all things singing and acting” and blah blah about how good he is at it, and how he is always involved etc etc.
Hmm. I never knew.
Of course, that he was doing choir (for grade 2 and above only, and he is in grade 1) for a good term and a half before I even found out he was even involved should have been an indicator. You know, two terms ago.