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Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Don't Mention the "E" Word!


The Mum of one of my students brought this fancy-pants gateau into work for me today. “I know it’s not your birthday for a couple of weeks but I thought I’d get in early,” she said.

So sweet and thoughtful of her… and it was easy to slice up into 29 pieces for the saucer-eyed, spellbound kids. In fact it was such a large cake there was plenty left over so I slapped it down on the staff room bench for the circling hyenas to devour. 


The last I saw of it, Kristen the grade three teacher was despondently scraping up the few remaining crumbs with a fork. “Three seconds earlier and I could have had a piece,” she pined bitterly, “three seconds...”

Cake is a passionately sought after commodity at school and God knows the teachers need sweetening up at the moment. Not only is it heading towards the end of a long term, but we’re hurtling at a chillingly rapid speed towards the dreaded “E” week… Eisteddfod week.

Every teacher in the school has been mandated to enter their class into the Choral Speaking section except, of course, the black sheep Pinky, who prefers to be a little more adventurously stupid and enter into the Dramatic Play section.

Why Pinky? I hear you sigh. What do you have against Choral Speaking?

The “2005 Great Choral Speaking Disgrace.”… that’s what I have against it.

There I was standing at the edge of the stage with my posse of rug rats ready to silently lead them up the stairs in an orderly fashion and corral them into the bleachers.
“Cripes! I hope you can’t see my green and pink striped knickers through my white pants!” I thought, absorbed in my own self-importance when I suddenly realised 500 people would be staring at my bum under harsh lighting for the next five minutes. 

The chairman rang his dingly bell and my little soldiers dutifully followed me on stage. Finally they were in position and standing perfectly still, faces beaming like pudding-faced angels… this was going to be great, I congratulated myself.

Proudly, I counted them in, one…two…three, confidently conducting my choir with aplomb when I suddenly heard the chairman ring his bell again and cough loudly into the microphone.

“Ahem… I think you may have forgotten someone…”

I peered back down the steps in absolute dismay and spotted little Declan scrabbling around the bottom, attempting to climb up them like a helpless puppy on a grand staircase… little Declan with special needs.

I WAS MORTIFIED.

...and his mother sitting in the audience didn’t look too impressed either.

So anyway, this year we’re doing a pirate play. My classroom is inundated with stripy shirts, plastic swords and eye patches. All I need to procure are two sea monster costumes for the dress rehearsal by Friday… in two days’ time.
Anyone have any ideas?