With Mr. Cool’s upcoming graduation (Wednesday! Yay!) from parochial school (it’s big deal here — they attend the same school for ten years then venture off to attend other high schools), I spent much of the weekend (except for some much appreciated downtime on Sunday) clearing out a lot of his old school stuff.
It was bittersweet combing through K-8: cards embellished with tiny little handprints, E’s pointing in the opposite direction, a house drawn with the triangular roof inverted so that it balanced like a fulcrum on the house itself. He told me not too long ago that he used to do that because “everyone put their roof on the same way; I wanted to do something different,” and I hope that that is a good indication of the kind of person he will always be. And it reminded me of a time eons ago when I tried to do the same thing. Everyone was making a basket of flowers out of construction paper, and I, wanting to be different, tried my six-year-old hand at making tulips instead of the rounded scalloped shapes with the circles in the middle. And I remember still, a gazillion years later, overhearing my teacher, as she stapled everyone’s flower baskets to the bulletin board, remark to herself (she didn’t think anyone was in the room), “What are THESE?” Ah, well. Whatever. At least I can find my ankle bones!

So it was an enjoyable, albeit emotional, trek down memory lane. But along this journey, I encountered the moral dilemma which I now present to you. As many of you know, I also have Miss Priss, who is three grades behind His Coolness. She is an incredible student who has always worked hard and set very high standards for herself (higher, I might add, than I would ever think of imposing). And she is attending the same school. And will inherit many of the same teachers. Hence my dilemma. I came across pages and pages of study guides and notes. Those aren’t the problem. I also came across tests which were administered to Mr. Cool which will, in some shape or fashion, be administered to Miss Priss.

Those tests were handed back at the end of the school year. They weren’t pilfered from a fraternity test bank. They were not obtained in any dishonest manner. So. If I save those tests for her, is it cheating?

Miss Priss thinks it is. I know what I think, but I’m going to reserve judgment.

What do you think?