a* school report? not with parents like us!

we had been pondering for quite some time what to do about roosters school

we have one round the corner which is good, all the kiddie winks on the close go there

however they are a bit older than our monkey and it has become very popular in more recent years, i know many who haven’t been able to get in due to siblings etc and then end up getting sent to a school miles away, and in neighbour hoods (i’m sure they probably just say hood, d’ya get me) that Β i have only frequented by driving straight through in a locked car or just once and i ran in and our on a purely emergency basis only. so anyway this school allocation thing started making me a little twitchy.

it also dawned on me that the nursery that ronnie attends now runs all the way up to pre-school, but he is already in that class now so it would mean 2 years in the same class, how dull would that be? i know would drive me slightly insane, how would that be stimulating?

so we looked around at other alternatives and actually a lot of the private schools worked out cheaper than what we are currently paying for nursery, so we thought why not let’s go see. pretty impressive some of them, one particular one was immense. the creativity in the school was outstanding it would have been my dream school growing up. so much colour and texture everywhere truly fantastic. ronnie seems to have inherited both our creative leaning, and is constantly drawing, painting, cutting and sticking.

so we put our names down at a couple, a few have a pre-school too so he could move next year ready for big boy school the following year. perfecto.

a letter arrives inviting us to an assessment day, oooo exciting but also what on earth is it all about? so for 3 weeks i ponder and worry about what they are expecting from ronnie and from us? what are the right things to say? what if ronnie says something outrageous and calls them a bum bum poo head? head starts spinning.

saturday arrives we are meant to be at the school for 11am. it’s the morning after our 5th wedding anniversary and oliver thought it would lovely to let me have a lay in and squirrel ronnie off down stairs to give me some snooze time. i awake from my snooziness roll over and the clock says 10.35!!!!!!!!!!!!! holy crap this is not good. the next 20 mins are a blur of body parts and frantic dressing and in the car and off!

we skidded through the door of the school by the skin of our teeth, not sure our dishevelled, red faces was the best we had ever presented ourselves. ronnie scooted off to have some free play with play dough and a bit of dressing up fun, whilst we attempted to sort ourselves out with a cuppa char and a bourbon, it was at this point i realised that we hadn’t even brushed our teeth! charming. hey ho

ronnie has lots of fun and is very reluctant to leave, which is a good sign right? Β i tease him out with a naughty biscuit, and the teacher turns to me and says oh what is that perfume you’re wearing you smell gorgeous! ha ha i feel like an idiot and bumble some words out. i smell gorgeous? i haven’t washed in a day, my hair isn’t brushed let alone my teeth, i’m in yesterdays clothes and makeup!! jesus.

we slope off home in embarrassment and hide for the rest of the weekend

monday rolls in and out and the evening nursery run is in full swing when i bump into sam’s mum. sam is already at the school we went to on the saturday. “hey, i heard all went well on saturday, they loved ronnie and they thought you and oliver were ever so stylish” well i couldn’t stop the laughter from bursting out of me, stylish eh? if only they knew……

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