mugging for the exam
This week was Jesse's last week of school for the term. It was also the week of his first school exam. He's only just four, but already in his second year at school and now taking his first exam ever.
"I'm not gonna make him study," Mae announces all week before the big day, "He's only four lah". But like any self-respecting soccer mom, she makes a last-minute, about-turn, the night prior to D-day. Thankfully, Jesse enjoys his school work, so he happily (even though the photo looks otherwise) agreed to Mommy's suggestion for a quick revision.
Despite telling myself that this was just a small little Kindie test, by the following morning, I was worried sick about my boy. I wasn't so concerned about his results as I was about how he'd deal with not knowing answers, if that should ever happen. How would he feel about it? What would he do? Would he get creative and start copying his friends' work? Would I be upset that he cheated? Or would I be proud that he dealt with it? Heh.
I would have thought all my exam-related anxieties left me when I left school. But it seems they have returned to haunt me. I loathe exams with a vengeance. I remember for months after my STPM exam, I woke up in the middle of the night screaming. But that is a story for another day.