How To Make Your Mother Proud

I’m not sure if I should be writing this post.

Don’t get me wrong.  I have written about some pretty inappropriate posts and some plain dumb ones. I have even plastered a photo of my boobs on the internet.  But my mum took the photo, so I guess it was ok.

But this one – I wonder – if I should keep it to myself.

Bombshell – forgive me if this mortifies you later on in life.

Yesterday I was handed my daughter’s pre-primary report.  It was bursting with work samples – writing, drawing, numbers, spelling. She is a good kid, bright and the teacher had some lovely things to say.  

But tucked at the back was a self assessment where the child reflects on how well they are doing, the things they are good at, and the things they could improve upon.

The Bombshell was confident that she did her best at sharing and taking turns, at helping others, and having good manners. She felt she played nicely, listened carefully and always tidied up.

She then was asked to say what she was good at.  She said she was good at writing stories and drawing pictures. So far, so good.

Then, at the very end, was a space for her to say what she wished she was better at.

My daughter’s first academic report:

‘I wish I was better at wiping my bottom when I do a poo’.

So proud.