Since Padraic’s scandalous interview with the Deputy Principal …Read more on this he appears to have pulled his socks up and has been arriving at school on time every day and staying put, thanks to a strict card signing system introduced by his vigilant teachers. My darling eighteen year old son even presented an autonomously written English assignment for me to proofread on Sunday afternoon.
Shaken with joy at this promising sign I sat down to peruse the essay and was brought to an abrupt halt at the third sentence, “The young girl was very pulchritudinous.”
“Pulchritudinous?” I chuckled, wondering where he’d got that one from.
Then I remembered the week before I’d been fed up with him dithering over the draft of the same essay and had shown him where to find the thesaurus on Word. I’d unleashed a monster; the entire essay was littered with flowery prose and numerous words of four syllables or more. The English teacher should be entertained if nothing else.
At least he’s 'having a go' unlike ‘Hagar the Illiterate’ who just didn’t bother to put any effort in at all. Thaddeus and Jonah never asked or needed my help with school work but with Hagar it was essential to question him at least once a week as to what assignments were due and how far had he progressed in writing said assignments.
“I’ve got to hand in the draft of my English assignment tomorrow.” Hagar answered me one Sunday evening.
“Is this all you’ve done?” I asked incredulously as he handed over a crumpled paper with three lines of chicken scratchings across it.
The task was to write an argumentative essay about the movie, “The Castle” and whether or not the family in the movie symbolised materialistic values. I loved that movie.
“Get upstairs!” I ordered a reluctant Hagar. “We’ll write the draft together.”
So there we sat together; Pinky typing with the enthusiasm of Virginia Woolf and Hagar reclining back in the chair with his eyes closed and head lolling. I have to say by the time I’d finished it was pretty damn good.
“So what did Mr Rogers think of m… your essay?” I eagerly intercepted Hagar on his way to the fridge a few days later.
“It’s all wrong, Mum!” whined Hagar, “He said it didn’t follow the criteria sheet.”
Bells rang. Criteria sheet? Hagar didn’t tell me there was a criteria sheet.
I didn’t bother with Hagar this time. Snatching the sheet I rushed upstairs to marry Mr Roger’s notes, the criteria sheet and my literary genius together in a glorious piece of masterful literature.
It was a long excruciating two weeks but Mr Rogers had finally got around to marking the essay and once again I pounced on Hagar as he walked in after school.
“You got a B minus, Mum.” Hagar said reproachfully.
How could this be? I thought. It was my best work! I have an honours degree in Education for God’s sake! Mr Rogers is a bloody b#stard.
“He’s said it’s not going towards my assessment because I didn’t hand the draft back in.”
Right! That was it. I was straight on the phone to this officious Mr Rogers.
“To be quite honest,” said Mr Rogers after we’d sorted out the draft issue, "I just don’t believe that Hagar wrote this essay. It’s too good, he’s taken the opposing argument and it’s better than anything my A plus students have written. I’m afraid I can’t accept it.”
Little monkeys began to dance around in my brain doing somersaults and cheering. He said it was better than what his A plus students wrote!! Yippee!!!
The moral of the story is: if you have a passion for writing, don’t waste your time cheating for your kids, start writing a blog.
“Pulchritudinous?” I chuckled, wondering where he’d got that one from.
Then I remembered the week before I’d been fed up with him dithering over the draft of the same essay and had shown him where to find the thesaurus on Word. I’d unleashed a monster; the entire essay was littered with flowery prose and numerous words of four syllables or more. The English teacher should be entertained if nothing else.
At least he’s 'having a go' unlike ‘Hagar the Illiterate’ who just didn’t bother to put any effort in at all. Thaddeus and Jonah never asked or needed my help with school work but with Hagar it was essential to question him at least once a week as to what assignments were due and how far had he progressed in writing said assignments.
“I’ve got to hand in the draft of my English assignment tomorrow.” Hagar answered me one Sunday evening.
“Is this all you’ve done?” I asked incredulously as he handed over a crumpled paper with three lines of chicken scratchings across it.
The task was to write an argumentative essay about the movie, “The Castle” and whether or not the family in the movie symbolised materialistic values. I loved that movie.
“Get upstairs!” I ordered a reluctant Hagar. “We’ll write the draft together.”
So there we sat together; Pinky typing with the enthusiasm of Virginia Woolf and Hagar reclining back in the chair with his eyes closed and head lolling. I have to say by the time I’d finished it was pretty damn good.
“So what did Mr Rogers think of m… your essay?” I eagerly intercepted Hagar on his way to the fridge a few days later.
“It’s all wrong, Mum!” whined Hagar, “He said it didn’t follow the criteria sheet.”
Bells rang. Criteria sheet? Hagar didn’t tell me there was a criteria sheet.
I didn’t bother with Hagar this time. Snatching the sheet I rushed upstairs to marry Mr Roger’s notes, the criteria sheet and my literary genius together in a glorious piece of masterful literature.
It was a long excruciating two weeks but Mr Rogers had finally got around to marking the essay and once again I pounced on Hagar as he walked in after school.
“You got a B minus, Mum.” Hagar said reproachfully.
How could this be? I thought. It was my best work! I have an honours degree in Education for God’s sake! Mr Rogers is a bloody b#stard.
“He’s said it’s not going towards my assessment because I didn’t hand the draft back in.”
Right! That was it. I was straight on the phone to this officious Mr Rogers.
“To be quite honest,” said Mr Rogers after we’d sorted out the draft issue, "I just don’t believe that Hagar wrote this essay. It’s too good, he’s taken the opposing argument and it’s better than anything my A plus students have written. I’m afraid I can’t accept it.”
Little monkeys began to dance around in my brain doing somersaults and cheering. He said it was better than what his A plus students wrote!! Yippee!!!
The moral of the story is: if you have a passion for writing, don’t waste your time cheating for your kids, start writing a blog.
