Yesterday we had a parents evening at nursery on how they prepare the children for school. Yes – SCHOOL!!!
I think their main aim was to convince the local mumerati not to get carried away and teach little Tarquin to read and write before they go to primary school. (Apparently schools hate that. They just want a blank canvas who knows how to wipe his own bottom, do up buttons and take turns without tantruming.)
Seriously though – school! The Microbe only turned three in June but the application window for primary schools starts next month.
Unfortunately I don’t seem able to discuss this without turning into a deranged, mouth-foaming lady-Dawkins, on account of the fact that two of our three oversubscribed local primary schools appear to have God on the admissions panel. I am genuinely agog that this is a thing. (I have it filed in the same WTF category as slavery and smoking on the tube).
Alas, the only local school that does not have God on the admissions panel (and on which I have been pinning all hopes since James was born) got OFSTED rated as “outstanding” in January. So now the whole world is going to apply to that school, god-fearing or not.
“Wait – what do you mean we didn’t get in? I thought you said Goat-bothering?”
G’s take on the whole business is, as ever, a spare and eloquent business:
“It’s certainly not the 21st century I was expecting.”
“It does seem strange that they can go to science class and be told that the universe was created in a big bang and that life arose on earth through a process of evolution over 4 billion years, then go to RE to be told that an all powerful wizard created the world in 6 days back in the 4th millennium BC”
(16 years on, dear reader, and he still makes me lol)
In other news, here are some random weekendy pics.
Better get used to it, kiddo…
World’s most pathetic puddle-jump
Scooting– you’re doing it wrong