In the last week I’ve been working very hard on my Spanish, as I’ve had my end of term Spanish exams.  The second written paper was last week, and my last day of revision was kiboshed by my eldest son being sent home from school at 11am having attempted to break the tarmac of the playground with his head.  The size of the egg on his head was unbelievable.  He had scratches and bruising all down the left side of his face. In fact, he looked like he;d been mugged.   After a quick trip to the doctor, he was declared ‘probably fine’.  Not the best preparation for my exam.  I think it went relatively okay, though.

Then yesterday I had my oral exam.  We had to do short presentations and a role play with a partner.   My partner and I had managed to do a couple  of hours practice during the previous week, so that we were fairly confident of most of the role plays we’d prepared.  To our great good fortune we randomly picked the role play we liked best, which even included a few funny bits.  The presentations went okay too.  I almost enjoyed it.  I was, however, very relieved to see the back of it.  It’s only GCSE level, and I did my GCSE when I was pregnant 10 years ago: I just couldn’t remember much of it.  It was very nice to wake up and realise that the pressure was off.  I probably will carry on in September, and if I do the next two years I’ll have the equivalent of an A level.  I find that slightly difficult to believe.  Languages were never really my strong point.

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