"Mummy what would happen if I had twenty five willys?" I instinctively looked around for someone to help me answer this one but the only other person was a gurgling one year old.
"Er..." Just because I'm a parent doesn't mean I'm suddenly qualified to have answers to these questions. I've got no better chance of coming up with an answer than the child-free couple next door. In fact they'd probably have a better answer because they're not as tired and worn out and hormonal as me.
"You would need special pants," was the best I could come up with.
"And what else?"
"You would be doing a lot of wee wees." This one worked better because Podge thinks toilet humour is very funny. And will probably find it funny for the rest of his life. Just like his Dad.
I sat a Mensa test this morning. I should explain there's a geek streak in my family. My Dad is a geek, he probably won't like the description but it's the truth. He was a member of Mensa and not overjoyed at the arrival of his unplanned baby daughter because it meant he had to give up his Maths PhD and get a job. He used to record grainy Open University programmes that were on BBC2 at 2am and watch them the following evening. They were mainly beige men with beards in beige studios chalking up obscure formulae on a blackboard (and he wasn't even studying with OU). Dad used to play 'postal chess'. Every other week he'd write down a chess move and post it to his chess mate. In the intervening weeks his chess mate would reply with his move. They used the same scrap of paper and envelope each time. I kid you not. These chess games would last for two years. This is what people had to do before the internet was invented. Mum isn't a geek which makes me wonder why they got together. They wondered that too, which is why they're no longer together. I suppose I'm half-geek.
So why sit a Mensa test? Maybe it was the chance to sit down for 2 hours. Actually, hunched over a table for 2 hours is not ideal with a baby bump. Maybe it's because I feel like my brain resembles that weird jelly stuff you get between the pork and the pie in a pork pie. Maybe I feel my brain isn't being exercised in a certain way at the moment. Maybe I wanted to hark back to schooldays and exams. Er, no can't be that one. Maybe it's because I'm half-geek.
Who else sits Mensa tests? I envisaged a lot of beards, oversized craniums and glasses. I wore my glasses to fit in. No one else was wearing them. My stereotype of clever people has clearly been influenced by those Open University programmes. There were a few studenty types including a goth. Some larger young blokes who looked like they spent a lot of time playing online games. Some young, attractive women (young, attractive, female AND clever?) and of course the default child prodigy who was ushered into the room by his Mum (don't we just love to scorn pushy Mums? Whether they're ushering their child into an extra-curriculur exam room or onto a stage or onto Britain's Got Talent, we love to gush with disapproval at them. Sometimes justifiably, sometimes not).
We were invigilated by a Mensa bloke called Brian Somethingorother. He told us that the local Mensa social group was very active. They do long walks (I glanced at the bump - not likely) and go out for meals. He asked if we had questions. "Do you have good piss-ups?" I asked. I didn't really. Although I could easily imagine Brian Somethingorother a bit merry after a few glasses of wine at the local Mensa social group dinner. A bit lecherous even.
The Mensa test was really hard. But what did I expect? The fact it was timed didn't help. We were presented with lots of seemingly random symbols and had to answer questions on them within three or four minutes. After that happened a number of times we had verbal reasoning questions which I could have done given an ordinary amount of time, but not with Brian Somethingorother present with his stopwatch. Oh, and if you don't answer a questions points are deducted. Harsh. How did Carol Vordermann get through it?
I find out in two or three weeks time how I did. I'm not holding out much hope. Even if I am clever enough to join Mensa, I'm still not clever enough to answer some of Podge's questions. Give Mensa members an afternoon with a three year old, that will sort the Einsteins from the Beckhams.
This post was written by Whistlejacket,a mum to two boys in her 30s that lives in Berkshire. She's expecting a third baby at the end of 2009. This has been carefully planned so she can be disorganised at Christmas and have a good excuse. You can read more at her blog, Babyrambles.
Comments