Prejudice and pride.

Grandsons' prize-giving yesterday, with strawberry tarts to follow. His mother and I dutifully turned up though grumbling that there'd be no prize for our darling because all his vicissitudes have caused him to miss schooling, and ski-ing, and rugby, and impaired his ability to concentrate, and so on, and that They ought to recognise that he's done really well to get through it all but they don't, he's not appreciated enough.. etc. etc.

So imagine our shock when his name was called out and we found They had given him prize after all - for Progress! He was just as shocked, bursting with pride - lots of red-faced grins in our direction as he swung his kilt back to his seat - and he had grown at least a foot in height when we met up with him afterwards.

I could have kissed the Headmaster. Bet he's glad I didn't.