It’s that time of year again. One hour after the envelopes flopped onto the doormat the phone rang. It was Mish from down the road whose DELIGHTFUL daughter Persephone plays with my son Oscar when there’s absolutely NO ONE else around. They’ve both sat the 11+ Exam for a highly selective private school in our town. We weren’t very hopeful but heard on the grapevine they offer the odd bursary to very poor people who own only one house.
Anyway as I was saying, the phone rings and I knew it was Mish from the first whoop:
“We’ve just opened the letter! Sephie’s got an ACADEMIC SCHOLARSHIP to the school!! ANNNDDD a SPORTING SCHOLARSHIP to her second choice. I just wanted to share that with you – isn’t it WONDERFUL!! She was the only girl who won an award in her WHOLE year. Several of her friends never even got a place! I KNOW you’ll be happy for her”.
I WONT. She never ‘fessed up to breaking the end off my Joli Rouge Clarins Lipstick and smearing little measle dots on the mirror in the downstairs bathroom. It cost £19. She was only six but I have a long, unforgiving memory. She’s also incredibly fussy about her food and sits and whines on her father’s lap jiggling his stubbly jowls until he gives her what she wants. Would you be happy for a child like that ?
“Well CONGRATULATIONS to Persephone and it must be said WELL DONE to you and Mick for encouraging her. Ever since the kids first started in Reception, I could see she was going to be an academic high flyer. Not only having two genius parents, but getting really stuck into all that tutoring, right through the holidays for the last three years too!
“Any news for your Oscar?” Mish asks
“Yes he did really really well thanks. Didn’t get in but was only 18 points away from a pass, which is fantastic considering he hasn’t quite mastered the alphabet. Still, at least he’s stopped biting the Dinner Lady and was only suspended twice this term for flushing clothes down the toilets.”
“Oh well never mind, he’s always got his whistling, and he’s so good with the Guinea Pigs.”
“Got to go Mish, I’m just entering a tunnel”
I would love to say Oscar’s been selected to join the National Youth Orchestra, a top junior football club or passed an audition to appear on Britain’s Got Talent. But he hadn’t and didn’t.
But if you want to see raw talent – this is one he drew earlier. (If you are the monkey in the photo, please get in touch and Oscar will happily share the royalties 50/50.)
What’s it like for Trophy Kids I wonder? Were you one?
(This was a guest post from the lovely Gloria aka Gummy Mummy. She’s happy for you to leave your comments here though)
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luv it
I know who you are! I’d love you even if you WERE a stalker! X
great post! Grrrr those smug mums!
Thanks – yes indeed. I might even practise being smug myself if a trophy ever arrives x
Absolutely hilarious! I take it you did the accompanied drawings Jo? Good to have you back 🙂
Yup, the drawings are all mine. Thanks Suzanne and really glad you liked the post x
Love it! As funny as ever. I’d definitely like to think my kids aren’t trophy kids!
Thanks Sarah! Maybe not trophy kids but may they win many anyway 😉
Love it! Thankfully I was not one and there is no way my boys will be either. Unfortunately I fear I know some that will be x
Hi Louise. Glad you like the post and your boys are lucky not to have a mum like that. x
Hiding my head in my hands. My little one is still only in Nursery and I see this happening all around us already!!
I’m afraid it doesn’t get better. What does is your ability to ignore it and/or rise above it – bet you’re doing brilliantly though 🙂
So funny my daughter is nearly 30 but you transported me back ” there ” in an instant She is now a teacher and a brilliant one at that if I say so myself . She likes the naughty ones . Being both dyslexic and “naughty” herself she remembers only too well the struggles and makes sure every child in her class knows their efforts are valued .
Heres to the Oscars of this world
Hi Gail, thanks for commenting and lucky you for having a daughter in such an important profession and making a difference by the sounds of it. Wish I’d been naughty as a child, left it rather late to be rebellious – way into my twenties and there aren’t many good teachers at that age willing to take on a stroppy adult. Well there was my husband I suppose.
Oh, this made me chuckle. I see this happening all the time, I just stay well out of it 🙂 Thanks for sharing with #ThePrompt x
Wise old you! Competitive parenting never has a restful outcome does it. x
Oh this is brilliant!! Made me chuckle and reminded me of a NCT mum I has the misfortune of knowing … Her little one was so clever that at the age of 2 she didn’t need to go to preschool like our insignificant off spring as she already knew all her alphabet and numbers so it would be a waste of time… Really?! Thanks for joining us at #BloggerClubUK hope to see you again next week x
We have the odd one like that where we live too, though 2 yrs old takes the biscuit! What about learning to socialise? Making friends? She’s going to be a very lonely little girl sacrificed to her mother’s ego, so can’t imagine that’ll be a terrific relationship in the future. Thanks for commenting Jo x #BloggerClubUK
I was the one doing all the achievements – music, dance, school etc but we didn’t have grammar schools here so that one wasn’t on my list. But thankfully my mum wasn’t a gusher about it. I doubt N is going to be like that, unless he continues his tennis. He’s refusing to learn any musical instruments so far, and isn’t showing any other sporting or academic prowess. Except maybe maths which several of his cousins also seem to be quite good at.
With kids age 5/6 I’ve already met several gushy parents like that – mostly oversharing all the amazing ahead of their peers stuff they’ve done. Very meh about it.
Good for your Mum. Nothing guaranteed to get up the nostrils than bragging though she obviously had something to brag about! I’ve said it before here but this is my favourite education quote: ‘Find out what your child enjoys doing and encourage them to do it as much as possible’. Jo