The Eldest is certainly more ‘chill’ about the Junior Cert than I was at his age

THE Eldest is just a week away from sitting his Junior Cert. Is he nervous? Is he like hell. If he was any more laidback he’d be horizontal. I have no idea from whom he inherited this trait as neither of his parents could be described as laidback.

Part of me secretly admires him. Part of me wants to shake the bejaysus out of him. When I did my inter cert, several centuries ago, I was a basket case. I studied like a maniac because we were told if you put the work in, you got the results. Plus we were afraid of our lives of being murdered by our parents if we didn’t pass.

No fear of that with mine anyway. The almost 16-year-old keeps telling me to ‘chill’, that no one ever asks what you got in your Junior Cert, it’s all under control.

‘But you should be bloody studying,’ I tell him as he watches a documentary on some soccer player called Salah instead of doing his tech graph homework.

‘Mam……’ he pauses for effect. ‘I’m not even doing tech graph for my Leaving Cert so it doesn’t matter if I fail it.’

Jesus Christ Almighty Tonight! No wonder my blood pressure is through the roof.

‘That doesn’t mean you can fail it! If you fail it I’ll ground you for a year!’ I tell him in desperation.

He smiles knowingly at me. Discipline and following through on threats wouldn’t be my strong points.

I meet one of his friend’s mams in the chemist. She told me her fella was studying round the clock. I smile tightly and mentally clobber my fella round the head with a tech graph book. I decide to do a quick check when I go home on how bad the situation is.

I quiz him on the First World War, ask him to write a letter to his pen pal in Irish and German and make him recite a poem from the English syllabus. I skip the maths because he knows I can’t add two and two and decide to right off the tech graph considering I don’t even know what it means.

He gets everything right. Little fecker. The Irish is a bit dodgy but look, you can’t have everything. I start fumbling around for the correct parental response to the fact that he’s a lazy so and so but obviously a clever one.

‘Well I deliberately gave you easy ones. They won’t be that easy in the exams,’ I tell him. ‘So you better start studying or you’re going to fail and make a holy show of yourself.’.

‘Be grand mam. Stop stressing. It’s very bad for you. Will I get you a glass of wine? ‘I sigh and sit down while he gets me the vino. He hands it to me saying, ‘Can I’ve a tenner to go out?’

If manipulation was a subject, he’d definitely get an A.

‘MAM, I’M NOT EVEN DOING TECH GRAPH FOR MY LEAVING CERT SO IT DOESN’T MATTER IF I FAIL IT.’ JESUS CHRIST ALMIGHTY TONIGHT!