I'M not an especially pushy parent - I just want my children to be the best at everything.

And so, with my 10-year-old son's SATS tests now just a few weeks away, the ambitious streak in me has taken over and I find myself firing obscure questions at him every spare five minutes we get.

Obscure to me, that is: Recent posers have included "Describe what happens if an appliance short-circuits" (I don't know I buy a new one, perhaps? ), And, "If a jumper is priced at £15, but a shop is offering a 15 per cent discount if you buy three, how much will you pay?"

(beats me, but I'll take one in each colour).

Thankfully, these questions are not so obscure to my son, who seems to know most of what he needs to for his age.

All he wants now is to get the tests over and done with and to get the mobile phone I've promised him if he tries his best.

I hate myself for doing it, for buying into this testing lark.

You see, SATs are not really designed for our children's benefit, but so that schools can be ranked against one another, and if there's one thing - despise about our education system it's league tables.

League tables might tell you how much knowledge a school is pumping into its kids but nothing about the values that have been instilled in them.

League tables show you how many pupils can read a book, but not how many have a talent for art or music.

League tables force schools to play safe with their curriculum, teaching only what's needed for the test.

Worst of all, league tables turn parents into snobs, fighting tooth and nail to get their child into a so-called "good" school.

But how can the "bad" schools ever be expected to get better if no-one is prepared to send their kids there?

All that said, if my son has to take these tests, he might as well give them his best shot.

And if the teachers are applying pressure on kids to do well (which they have to, for fear of the negative attention being labelled a "bad" school brings), I might as well too.

Surely my light-hearted - some might even say "fun"' - Q&A sessions are merely my way of showing some parental support?

It worked for my eldest son, a couple of years ago.

He needed a kick up the backside in his final year of primary school and I gladly dished it out. I went through the same rigorous - oops, sorry, casual - coaching regime with him, and he went on to do well in his SATs.

He did draw the line, though, when I offered to get the application forms for Junior Mastermind.

There are only so many things a pushy parent can get away with.

4:23pm Thursday 3rd April 2008

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