The reactions to my leaving were many and varied. My lovely NQT mentor had tears in her eyes as I broke the news. The Head Teacher was equally devastated “We’re going to miss you Tom” she muttered. I didn’t bother to correct her.

I set to marking their SATs papers. “I taught them well” I thought as I read that ‘bats sometimes pick other people’s noses” and ‘hedgehogs have a second brain in their nipple’ (blame the internet for that one). I’d told one child “you won’t be able to copy your partner in the test!”. She proved me wrong and did. On the plus side she got better than expected results.

The trials we faced were many and varied too. Technology has let us down so many times in the end I stopped one lesson and asked “Has anyone booed a computer before?” There was the inevitable “I have!” ignoring this, I instructed the class to boo the laptops for a full minute. It didn’t amount to much, they didn’t learn anything but we all felt marginally better.

What I didn’t expect after this was the merest mention of any form of technology would be greeted by at least one “boo!”. The passing Deputy Head misheard it as a “moo” and reminded me they were a little too old to be taught farmyard animal sounds.

The other trial involved what I entitled the ‘Massive Arse Covering Exercise’. I don’t mean by this I have an arse the size of the Rock of Gibraltar; rather, I needed to create the illusion I’d been more efficient that I actually was, hence ‘covering my arse on a global scale’.

The last trial of the week has already gained folklore status. In fact several of the staff contravened healthy and safety regulations just to build a campfire, to retell the ‘Tale of the Titanic Turd’. This is my version…

I only venture into the children’s toilets to either stop children doing the old ‘soap in a sock as a weapon’ trick or to correct the grammar of the graffiti. On this occasion I heard a child scream. By the time I arrived he was speaking in tongues and pointing at the cubicle. It was then I saw it. It was like the monolith from ‘2001’ if it was made from Winalot.

It was balanced precariously on the toilet seat. It could only have been created by a child levitating over the seat…and were those arms reaching out? Without a thought for my own personal safety I attacked it with the only thing to hand…

I’d forgotten the kid was still there. By the time the ordeal was over, I turned, breathless and holding a dented bog brush. Although the boy was clearly still in shock, I felt like we had both experienced a ritual, a purification of sorts. I nearly passed the bog brush to him and over a symphonic swell announced “Take it, it’s yours now”.

It wasn’t long before the conspiracy theorists had set to work. “The rule of three!” they exclaimed. It had happened on the third day of the third week, in trap three and needed three flushes.

Next, how to find the culprit? The only clues we had were that it was a boy and he was on a high fiber diet. Look away now Sir Jamie of Sainsbury, but to avoid suspicion kids spent their lunchtime gorging on processed food just to avoid suspicion. We may never know unless we catch the floater that did the floater red-handed.

To segue to shit’s smaller in size (I don’t mean it of course), I’ve spent the last few days report writing. To wrap up, a quick guide for parents about what to watch out for in their children’s reports;

(name) is the centre of attention/full of beans/a real character – he/she is broadly reviled.

 (name)  is a very enthusiastic participant in every food tasting session – he/she is morbidly obese

(name) is willing to have a go – don’t ever expect to see them on a podium

 (name) keeps himself to himself – he’s our number 1 suspect for what happened in that cubicle


2 thoughts on “Missed

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