Nervous?! NO!!!

My elder, alyveritya, is right now taking the SSAT.

We practiced. (Yes, "we"; she did sample tests, and I coached and graded.) Enough? She seemed comfortable. The essay test was the part I worried about most, but she seemed to even have that down. (And her ability to take the prompt statement and provide an opposing argument warmed the cockles of my contrarian heart.)

There was a bit of confusion getting her there. First off, there's apparently some kind of bicycle rally on Rt. 119 today, as we kept passing passels of earnest bicyclists in spandex and helmets; one passel was at least 500 feet long. Second, the address we were given was not the building where the test is actually being given. Third, the address we were given lied, as the building is not actually on that street (it's on a side-street). Fortunately, this was one of those cases where "follow the crowd" made sense, as everyone else at Lawrence Academy that morning was there for the same reason.

alyveritya took off her iPod, set down her book, picked up her pencils, pencil sharpener, three Pink Pearls, and paperwork, and we headed into the test building. The big chart on the easel in the foyer told us which room number she was supposed to be in, and after a little confusion getting her there, she was checked in and settled with ten minutes to spare.

To dot all the 'i's and cross the 't's (we can leave the 'j's undotted), I went back to the easel and found two handwritten notes: one was to inform us that the parents' lounge was open in "the building across the street"; the other was that all incoming students should see Mrs. Quinn in the office on the right.

Oops.

I go into the office, and find a professional woman I presume was Mrs. Quinn talking with a mildly distraught older man with a teenage granddaughter. Or daughter, I suppose. The Intarweb had successfully confused him, and the girl was not registered for the test today; however, they did confirm that his credit card had not been charged. I do feel sorry for the girl. As all this is going on, many other parents are showing up with their charges; one took the time to admire sculptures made of recycled soda cans rather than hustle her daughter to her test room! Then another girl showed up in sweat pants that said "Abercrombie" across her butt. Yes, she was chewing gum. And she had one pencil in her hand. And I'm thinking "That's one less competitor for my daughter to worry about".

An overdressed woman with a deep tropical tan asked me about the parents' lounge, and then wondered whether she could find coffee in such an isolated village as Groton. I explained that Groton center had several art shops and cafes. "Oh, do you live here?" No, I live over there in Littleton. "Such quaint western Massachusetts towns!" I gave her the same hairy eyeball I give NYC dwellers who refer to Yonkers as "upstate". Small-minded provincial gits.

I convinced myself that alyveritya would not perform better on her test if I was hovering around, so I came home.

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I'm not nervous. Nope. Nuh-uh.