Me, Him, The Four, The Cakes, The Laundry - The Life.

Feelin’ Stabby…

SATs week.

Bloody stupid, hateful, waste-of-time nonsense.

In the last few weeks Boy has done nothing but practice papers. Homework? Oh, practice papers please – but make sure your parents go through them with you and correct them, and teach you the bits you don’t know.

PE? Well, how about we get those young legs out and stretch them with a nice game of… golf.

Yes. Golf.

Last week, the week before the SATS? Let’s keep them nice and fresh by doing nothing but Maths & English test papers. Morning and afternoon.For PE? Oh, lets do Cup Stacking (concentration practice, see?).

SATS week? Well, how about you lovely 10 and 11 yr olds have two days of English papers, and then we’ll give you some homework.



50-odd maths questions on a sheet. The night before the Maths SATS.

Seriously – if you haven’t managed to teach my child in the last six years, there’s fuck all a few more questions are going to do for him the night before.

Except, perhaps, to kill off any small remaining spark of interest he may have in his own education.

Foolishly, I hoped two more years experience would have taught this particular Yr6 teacher a thing or two. Make him relax a little. Take them less seriously. Teach his class properly, throughout the year, so they can sail through the tests with a breeze without really noticing them. take account of the fact his class is filled iwth 10 ans 11 yr olds.

You know. Children.

Young, impressionable, worried children.

Stupid, vain and foolish hope.


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