I was ready to moan the other day about the second coming of GCSEs, but had no time, as I was busy with someone’s GCSEs. I was also far too ready to ridicule the Guardian for their front page headline about the poor parents who don’t make it into the school of their choice. It’s the children who go to school. The parents only push for the ‘right one’.

But as I was saying, that might have been premature, since I’m now hard at work for someone’s exams. German is no easier 35 years after I left school, but I will still look over homework and indicate if I’m happy or not.

And now, a few days later, I have been doing Art. Or rather, I’ve been finding flowers (it is March) for the Art exam. That’s not cheating, I promise. But it’s work. We are allergic to flowers of most kinds, so have a basement full of fakes. They come out in a vaguely seasonal order each year, except for today when they came out all at once to be photographed.

While that took place I searched through iPhoto for flower pictures, and a surprising number of them come with world famous authors attached. I’m sure that doesn’t matter. In the exam you may well find a purple author, or similar. Purple prose. No, maybe not.

Pictures. Flowers. Art.

Tired parent. But at least I did get into the school of Offspring’s choice. No, they did.

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