A few blogs ago (see what a bloggy blogger I am? I no longer think in terms of "days" or "weeks," but in terms of "blogs.") I posted about the renowned (for something, I'm sure) Henrietta Szold Institute and the TEST they wanted my daughter to take. I would link to it but I'm lazy so I'm not gonna. Well, yesterday was the Big Day.
Digression: Before I begin, I would just like to say how nice it is to be among friends, where no one (or, at least, almost no one) thinks I am abusive.
You see, Facebook has banned me from posting comments because they think I posted a comment on my status 130 times, which I agree is abusive behavior. Indeed, my comment did appear over 100 times (the same one, and it wasn't even that witty, nothing you'd really want to read 130 times.) However, I promise you, and I promise the powers that be at Facebook, that I did not sit there typing and clicking my comment 130 times. Even I have better things to do with my time.
But for now, for anywhere from a "few hours to a few days," I cannot comment. So it is nice to be here, where I can comment freely. Comment, comment, comment.
Plbbbtttt, is what I say to Facebook.
Now, back to our regularly schedule test.
The letter said the test was starting at 2:30. And I, my friends, am hopelessly American. Even though I no longer blink when parties for 3 and 4 year olds end at 7:00 and dinner wasn't even served, I am still not Israeli. I figured like this:
"Well, there are a bunch of kids taking the test. I'm sure there's some kind of check-in process, because they said we had to bring the letter. So we'll get there at 2:15."
At 2:15, Ariella, Nadav, and I show up to the school where this test is. The doors are locked. Parents and kids are milling around outside.
Haha! Surely, if the test starts at 2:30, they don't plan on opening the doors at 2:30!
But yes, Loyal Reader, in fact, that is EXACTLY what they planned on doing.
So at 2:30 the doors opened. Actually, just one door, so we all - parents, kids, siblings, strollers - had to walk in (read: push), single file.
Now, the kids were divided into groups - each letter had a group number, which designated the room they were to take the test in. Again, I thought:
Well, why don't they send the kids straight to their rooms, and in the room the proctor can do the five-minute explanation about the test?
Wrong again! We all had to gather in the lobby of the school, where a sweet-voiced lady stood on a chair and tried to hush everyone.
Now, the same part of the Israeli genetic code that is responsible for "I must get on this elevator/bus/train before you have a chance to get off!" told the entering parents to enter ju-u-u-st enough, and then stop. None of this go alllll the way in so there's room for everyone. Silly, how American of you!
So we waited until everyone had inched in j-u-u-u-st enough for the whole crowd to fit. Finally, Sweet Voice read her instructions, and sent the kids to their separate rooms. Of course, the poor kids had to squeeze through the various parents, siblings, and strollers, since we were all packed in like a jar of herring.
In the end, the test was close to an hour and a half. Ariella went straight from the test to her chugim, and pretty much collapsed in bed when she came home.
And now we wait. We don't find out the results until the end of June, or about 50 blog posts from now.
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