Matric exams

The REE (Resident Expert on Everything) is writing matric, and I am beginning to understand why some psychologists think exams are unfair.  The stress is just way too much to bear.  The fear of failure, the late night tears, the early morning panic attacks,  the soul searching silence on the way to school, the nail chewing, the short tempers, the horrific realization that there are those who pass and those who fail, the pulling out of hair….  And that's just me and Mrs Ed!

  And the underlying fear, the biggest, most fearsome thought of all….

What if he never leaves home?

I suppose Mrs Ed and I would be less on edge (excusing the pun) if The REE himself showed the tiniest, itsy-bitsiest sign of worry, or even moderate discomfort, about the fact that he is currently writing the most important exams in his life.  Yes. It would be nice if he boosted 'Writing Matric' up the list of  'Things Which May Affect My Future', just a bit, perhaps adjacent to ‘Getting An Earring’ , just below ‘Catching A Hectic Swell at Buffs’ and ‘Eating All The Cornflakes In The House’. 

But no, matric is more of a hindrance to him than anything else.  A bit like homework, or an embarrassingly positioned 'zit', or putting your knife and fork together after eating . 

I must admit, watching his cunning efforts to avoid-studying-at-all-costs made me realize that he is, without a doubt, a product of my loins. So much so that I have cancelled the DNA test booked for next week.  It is like a walk down memory lane!   I am amazed that though world has changed in so many ways, and technology has developed at an incredible rate since we wrote our school finals, (actually I think they invented the wheel since Mrs Ed wrote her O levels ) the art of 'Study Avoidance' has remained timeless.
“Ok, I'm going to study now,” he will announce to his mother, just in case there is the slightest chance she will fall at his feet, clutch his ankles and sob “No! Not studying! Please, please don't go!  It's dangerous in there.  We love you! Please stay here with us in No-Study-Land where it's nice and safe…” Of course she doesn't, so he will saunter over to me, at the 0.0005km/ hour speed that only teenagers can muster, and say “Dad.  I'm going to hit the books.  You know, for my matric.  I'm going now.  As in, now, today.  Ok?” Because somewhere in the back of his mind there is a fused jumble of grey matter which holds the micro-sized hope I will shout “DON'T YOU DARE, YOU UNGRATEFUL CHILD!  AFTER ALL THESE YEARS IS THIS WHAT YOU DO?  HOW YOU TREAT US? BY STUDYING? WELL NOT UNDER MY ROOF!  YOU GET YOUR LAZY BACKSIDE DOWN TO THE BEACH AND YOU START SURFING BOY! WHEN YOU'VE DONE AT LEAST SIX HOURS ON THAT BOARD THEN YOU CAN COME TO ME AND MAYBE I'LL LET YOU LOOK AT YOUR HISTORY BOOKS!” which of course, I don't either.

So then the ‘Justassoonas’ start.  Recognise the term?  If your children have done matric, you undoubtedly will.  ‘Justassoonas’ are normally followed by some arbitrary action that the average Matric writer  wouldn't dream of doing in normal life.
“Are you studying?”
“I'm gonna start justassoonas I've folded my clothes.”
“I'll get to it justassoonas I've put these dishes in the sink.”
“I will do it dad, justassoonas I finish making a thankyou card to old Aunt Edna for the lime green jersey with the reindeer motif she knitted for me last Christmas,”
I remember when I was 'studying' for O Levels how lonely a thing it was.  Spending all that time on my own used to drive me mad… Sometimes it was almost half an hour!  But now there is a new method of study which negates that problem….

The REE has 'study groups' on an almost nightly basis.  This is a wonderful way to take the loneliness out of studying, which works like this:- Four or five matric writers sit around the dining room table with their books open, discussing a particular subject with great enthusiasm. They exchange different ideas and correct one another, ask questions, give answers, sometimes even take notes....
Of course the subject of their discussion has nothing to do with school.  It's normally something far more important, such as 'surfing', or ‘why chicks prefer dudes with 'hectic cars'’ or  ‘the best place to have a tattoo’ (that's address AND body position). 

The real advantage of this for The REE is that, because there are guests  present, he gets to avoid the 'Deep Shout' that his old man (hey, less of the 'old', please. That's me you're talking about) tends to release when it is blatantly obvious no studying is going on.  When there's company around a tactic called Sarcasm is used.
“Hello boys, what's the next exam? Chick Entrapment 2?  Or perhaps it's Biology and you are calculating the Rate of Adsorption of Indian Ink When Applied to the Gluteus Maximus of the Average Homo Sapiens ?”
Fortunately there is, believe it or not, an upside to this.  You see since The REE entered 'Sloth Mode' some four years ago, it has been exceptionally difficult to get him to take part in any of the joyous household tasks which beset our family.  Even asking him to put a sock in the laundry basket is tantamount to requesting he sever his left leg, hop to Cairo and back carrying the bloody stump,  and then wade across the crocodile infested Limpopo with a large Rottweiler clinging to his tongue.  

But since two weeks before matric exams, when he KNOWS he should be studying, I can get him to do anything.  ANYTHING!
(SFX: MANIACLE CACKLING: “Hoo Hoo Hah hah hah HAH!”)
“Son, won’t you quickly run to the hardware store and get three bags of cement?  You'll probably need to take the wheel barrow  but watch that wonky wheel as you cross the N2,”
“Son, would you mind cleaning all the Hadedah how’dyoudo off our roof with a hose and scrubbing brush this afternoon?  Your mom hasn't managed to get up there for a couple of years since she hurt her back carrying those tiles,”
“Hey my boy, the main pipe inlet into the septic tank has blocked again and I need someone with a strong arm to reach in and pull out whatever's stuck there….”
“Oh Son? Won't you pop down to the bottle store and fetch your dad a case of  amber nectar?  You can use the money you earned waitering last night….”

And his answer is always the same. “Sure thing Pops, I'm supposed to have my head in my studies, but as you asked so nicely…
I'd be mad if I didn't!”