Well, I’m happy to report – and I’m sure that you will all have been on veritable tenterhooks to know – that I too have registered some impressive exam grades for my recent endeavours!.
Ok, so it’s not quite GCSEs, or A-Levels (and the only degree that I’ve had of late was ‘the third’ one I received from my Gran after trying to put her false teeth to unintended use), but I stressed just as much as our beloved teenagers did, I can tell you!
As the quintessential Market Harborough knee-shuffler, my literacy levels are, of course, well-advanced. Yet, apparently, being able to define a “chav” or understand an Enigma bouncer at 2am ports little credit in a test context.
“Almost in the lines”. Pffffff. Whatever. It’s not my fault that there’s a distinct lack of appreciation for abstract revisionism in Harborough. Talk about a misunderstood artiste who’s ahead of his time. My Lego-Meccano ensemble replica of a ‘Time to Time’ mantle clock was perfect.
As a two-year-old, I’m seriously well-versed in most things biological – think about it: I can easily navigate my way around what comes out of where on the body, and I’m not exactly a stranger to experimenting with things; while my physics understanding of launching projectiles is all-but unparalleled; and the chemistry I have with the NuNu blonde is definitely generating an impressive, combustible reaction!
With no shoes or socks on, I’m an absolute whizz up to twenty-one (“perfectly normal” for a native Harborian...I’m assured), and nobody can calculate time between meals like me!
British Bulldog may not yet be an Olympic sport, but my gold medal credentials for when it makes its bow are beyond reproach, and I can already dangle from the gym rope like a proper barnacled limpet. And as for my dribbling skills...
Overall, I guess there are elements of “could do better” about it all, but I wouldn’t want to peak too soon; I’m saving myself for adolescence!
Column by The Baby Harborian
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