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.

6 comments:

  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!

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  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...

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  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.

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

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  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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