Finals

It’s finals week for the General and the Vegan.  They’re not my finals, I tell them; I never have to go to high school again.  If you do most of what you’re supposed to, you won’t either.

The General doesn’t simply study; she worries.  She studies all the time, often at Starbucks with a bunch of girls, all talking on their cells, their books open, pens flying, arguing about which Steinbeck quotes the teacher might ask.  She sits in a sea of papers in her room, reviewing her and everyone else’s notes, all night long. 

“Get to bed,” we say if we get up in the middle of the night and walk past her room. 

“Are you joking me?” she says.  “I have six and a half hours until this test.  I’m not going to waste it sleeping.”

She wastes it worrying instead.  She leaves the house with a deer in the headlights look.  “I can read ‘The DaVinci Code’ this weekend for extra credit,” she says, “so when I flunk this test it won’t hurt my grade so much.”

We don’t have to ask her how she did on her tests when she gets home.  It’s the first thing out of her mouth.

“I think I got an ‘A.’”

“See?  Next time don’t worry so much.”

“That is, I think I got an ‘A’ if the person in front of me got an ‘A.’  That’s who I copied from.”

We’ve bred male offspring void of the school-worry gene.  Of all the five sons and step-sons we claim, none of them hung out with the college-bound academics.  Once Josh, Charlie’s youngest, was in danger of flunking a required English class.  We knew this because instead of playing Rainbow 6, he worked on a big speech right in front of us, like a normal kid.  We asked him later how he did.

“I think I did pretty well,” he said.  “I think I got an ‘A.’”

“You had an ‘F’ before.  What do you think your grade is now?”

“Oh it’s still an ‘F.’”

The Vegan flunked almost everything, including ceramics, during his freshman year.  “Get a 4.0,” we told him, “and we’ll give you $500.”  He got so many 4.0s he bought a car.  We had to stop the incentive program or run out of money to finish the house.  You can guess what happened after that.

All he did to get a 4.0 was do the homework.  He is one of those people who never gets anything wrong on tests.  Even if he wasn’t in class or doesn’t understand the material, he aces tests.  This is what he relies on, rather than actual work.  When you can get good grades without studying, why study?

Instead he makes up for the General’s lack of sleep and entertainment.  He won’t let the General on the computer, as he has to catch up on his chat room conversations.  When everyone signs off to go study, he goes to sleep. 

“You know you’re going to have to put your grade point average on every application you fill out,” we say.

“I’m going to community college.”

“Applications for jobs, too,” Charlie says.  “I know.  I had to write ‘1.67’ way too many times.”

It didn’t matter.  He was so relaxed about the first day of finals, he slept in until 11:30 am. 

“Can you call in sick for me?” he asked.  He drove over from his Dad’s, where he was staying for the week.  Even his loser Dad was up and out already.

“No.”

“I really am sick.  Listen: my voice is raspy.  I’m getting a cold.”

“No.”

“How about if I do my homework?  I have a couple of make-up poems to write.  I can write a movie review and get extra credit.  I can turn it in tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Please?”

“Okay,” I said.  “You better.”

He kicked the General off the computer and spent the next four hours chatting online.  The General pitched a fit for the same four hours as her homework went undone. 

After a few more General fits, he gave in and let her on for ten minutes while he wrote a poem about having a sister who pitches fits.  He kicked her off and chatted online for the rest of the evening and went back to his Dad’s to sleep, leaving his poem at our house.  So much for his priorities.

If I lived through my kids, I’d be stressed.  I’d worry; I’d get the General into therapy and bribe the Vegan.  Instead, I remember I don’t have to ever spend another hour in high school.  That’s all the therapy I need.

A little help? [] 6:40:38 PM