Thursday, April 2, 2009

Take it to the Mattresses, Vinny

Had the first term PTA today. Tiny chairs, teachers who don’t know my children, both telling me what a pleasure it is to have them in the class. Mystifies me- how those two horrors who can lay a field of destruction in this house within five minutes can be seen as studious and considerate.

They’ll have a good career as grifters at some point, scamming people into buying tracts of swampland, or real estate on the moon. I can see through their little tricks- I was trying to raise problem areas- which I know exist, and the teachers kept on cutting me off. They must have some dirt on the teachers- maybe an ill-advised ‘romantic’ video with a partner, or a small foil package they caught them with in the staff loos- whatever it is, those teachers are in my children’s pockets.

Maybe James called up some of his buddies on one of the paper cell phones he makes – shame- deprived kid, and asked them to make teacher an offer she couldn’t refuse. I looked around the classroom for a box of severed fingers, or a horses head, but all I saw were really badly drawn pictures of what I think were jellyfish. Those kids can’t draw for toffee!

So after two VERY perfunctory meetings- teachers looking anxiously over my shoulder, alternately at the clock and the door, I left, satisfied that my children have found a safe path through the scholarly life: The Classa Nostra.


  1. Yes, sadly it's just us, the parents, they tend to torture. Your kids are great though dammit, now stop trying to find fault with the little darlings. Sheesh!

  2. Have to frisk them for shivs every morning, search for secret compartments in their homework diaries. So far the tiny cameras in the rooms haven't got anything conclusive, but I am nothing if I am not patient...

  3. Sounds too me like they are leaders and know to keep 'home' things at home and how to present themselves in public.
    Good job.

  4. They got to you too, GJ?...
    Sometimes I wish it was the other way round, but thanks :-)

  5. I am utterly terrified of the day that my boychild starts preschool. My girl is bliss all over the place -- we're taking bets on when she'll rebel and blow up parliament.


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