Wednesday, 20 June 2007
Forget an apple for teacher, not unless it's laced with bloody narcotics!
School Report – backdated from the last two months.
Anyway, let’s start with a positive story. It involves a wiggly worm and a student’s glove. One of my little year sevens, and I do mean little now, she’s about as tall as your average four year old, but what’s that got to do with the price of sausages, she’s a sweet kid with a good heart. God knows how she survives in that school of gigantic giants. I had just come out of the school gates when I heard this little voice from behind me, “Miss Mackenzie.”
“Yes?” I turn around, to see this sweet little kid standing there, looking up at me, suddenly, I feel like a skyscraper. I am only 5ft 5 with heels on and now I feel like Canary Wharf.
“I want to show you something”.
“Okay then, what is it?”
She takes one of her gloves off and in it there is a rather long wiggly worm, which she pulls out. It must be about a foot in length, more like a python than a worm. It’s almost as long as her tiny frame.
“Oh, that’s nice. What are you going to do with that then?”
“Take it home and bury it, in a plant pot”.
“Lovely, will it actually fit?”
“Yes, I have lots of worms at home, in different plant pots.”
“Does your mother mind?”
“I don’t tell her”.
A vision of a bedroom floor awash with wiggly worms enters my head, I feel like I am going to puke.
”I think you should tell your mum you know. They might escape or something. Then what will you do? Call the RSPCA? (I start laughing – she doesn’t, she just stares at me like I am insane. I change the subject) Where did you get that from?”
“I found it”.
“Nice. Okay, make sure (at this point I don’t know what to say. I did the teacher bit, I showed enthusiasm towards the worm and her, but it was difficult as I just hate worms – they turn my stomach. I kept thinking how on earth has this child managed to keep it in her glove, ugh, the thought of it moving around, sliding in between my fingers makes me feel sick, yuk). I’ll see you tomorrow then.” I start walking away.
Calling out after me, “Miss Mackenzie.”
Reluctantly I turn around. At this point I am desperate to get away from the sight of that worm, “Yes.”
“Would you like me to get you one?” I turn around, again. I don't want to disappoint her, but I just don't want a worm - I hate them! I choose my words carefully.
“That’s very sweet of you, thing is I don’t have a garden, or a plant pot. In fact I have absolutely no plant pots in my accommodation at all. Anyway, you better get that wiggly worm home soon, (she starts giggling when I refer to it as a wiggly worm. I pause for a moment and then I start laughing with her, we are laughing for a good two minutes). He looks hungry to me; you don’t want him to starve!” I start walking away, again.
“Miss Mackenzie”. I turn around.
“Can I walk with you for a bit?”
“Sure, come on then”.