When I found out that my four year old son would be getting a report card from the preschool he had been attending for less than twelve weeks, I thought “WTF?” He’s FOUR. He should be playing with play-doh and dress-ups and running away from girl germs. I don’t care if he gets a B in putting on a pirate costume or an A in play-doh sausagry because frankly, he has his whole life ahead of him to be graded.
But things are a but different here in Asia. School at four is quite serious and all about letter formation and early maths and songs about planets and geography. Did you know that and Isthmus is a skinny bit of land joining two larger land masses? I didn’t, until it was part of young Millar’s homework. Yes, homework. In Kindergarten.
Anyway, so I went to the parent teacher meeting thingo and sat my ample arse in the tiny chair and received his school report card.
A+s – lots of them.
Well, I can hardly poo-poo the education system of a very populated nation now can I? Maybe I was wrong about the value of the report card… This one is getting framed!
Yes I totally wrote this post to brag about how awesome my kid is. I am, after all a mummy blogger. pfft.