Sunday, May 21, 2017


A mummy friend asks me how Day did in the exams. “I don’t really know,” I say. I turn away and yell at Day to tell me the numbers, but he doesn’t remember either.

At this stage, with three sets of results to monitor, and Day doubling his list of subjects, I fail to register everything.

The broad impression is that Lu is very good in English, Jo is very good in Maths and Day is very good in cooking.

And that Lu is very bad in Chinese, Jo is somewhat weaker in languages and Day is possible not academically inclined in the least.

His teacher, a very young lady who looks to be in about her 20s, looks me in the eye and pronounces in a somewhat uncertain manner: “If he doesn’t buck up he could go to Normal Academic.”


That about sums up results.

The one course of action I absolutely need to take?

Send Day to a tutor for secondary school Chinese. I thought, maybe there’s hope yet, but no. His old tutor was right. He needs someone to whip him on.

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