A couple of weeks ago, my 10-year-old came home from school visibility upset. The baby got a “B” on a math test.

Since she was already feeling the punch of the “B”, there was no need for me to scream bloody murder and raise more hell. I laid low.

Despite my calmness, my baby suffered a long time under all that gloom. She sheepishly told me that she didn’t deserve this “B”.

I examined the test paper, and said, “It looks like a B to me.”

Last Thursday, my husband and I attended our school’s Back To School night. After the classroom presentation, we went to introduce ourselves to the baby’s teacher. Mrs. D is new to our school this year.

“Oh, so you are the parents. Let me tell you something that just happened yesterday.” Mrs. D said cheerfully.

“Your daughter seemed awfully quiet.” Mrs. D started.

Yes, my 10-year-old is a child of a few words. Unlike my 13-year-old, who can blabber until I grew a headache, my 10-year-old is not doing her fair share of talking. I often worry about the baby being too silent.

Mrs. D continued, “Yesterday, at the end of the school. I noticed her lingering, and she waited until all the kids left the room, then approached my desk.”

I listened intently, nodding and smiling.

“She stood in front of me, with a piece of paper in her hands. So, we looked at each other, then I asked her, ‘do you need something?’” Mrs. D.

“She said, ‘Yes. I got a “B” on this math test. But I got a “A” on the REAL test. I want my “A” back.’” Mrs. D.

Mrs. D broke into a laughter, “So, I asked her, ‘how do you know that you got an “A” on that test?’”

“And she said, ‘because you went over all the answers on that test, then you recycled them.’” Mrs. D.

A couple of weeks ago, the class took a math test. Mrs. D quickly discovered that the kids did very poorly on this test. Out of the kindness of her heart, Mrs. D went over the test answers, offered the kids a new make-up test, and tossed the REAL tests into the recycle bin.

Except not all the kids needed that make-up test. My baby had aced the REAL test.

I was incredibly happy walking out of the school that evening. I sometimes worried about my 10-year-old. If she is too quiet and unable to fend for herself. That night, I felt a sense of relief, that when it comes to things that mattered to her, when push comes to shove, she will shove the “B” back, and demand the “A”.

P.S. Mrs. D and the baby made some kind of deal together with that math test.

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