Having reached “T” in the April blogging challenge you would think it’d be easy wouldn’t you?
I could have written about anything really as long as I started the title with the word “The”.
“The day I went to the hairdresser and I walked out liking my haircut!”, “The day I ordered in the drive through at Maccas and they got it right!”, or even “The day I left for work and didn’t have to run back into the house three times to retrieve my sunglasses/lunch/Nicorettes.”
The trouble is none of those things have ever happened to me and as you know I never exaggerate or fabricate.
I suppose I could easily have written a post on, “T- is for Today! The day my students broke every single one of our class rules.”
We only have four rules neatly pinned on the wall in a creatively designed, laminated poster.
Class Rules
1. Listen to the teacher and put your hand up to speak.
2. We pass pencils, rulers and erasers we don’t throw them.
3. We respect each other and treat others as we’d like to be treated.
4. When the teacher rings her bell we stop, look and listen.
I could have written about anything really as long as I started the title with the word “The”.
“The day I went to the hairdresser and I walked out liking my haircut!”, “The day I ordered in the drive through at Maccas and they got it right!”, or even “The day I left for work and didn’t have to run back into the house three times to retrieve my sunglasses/lunch/Nicorettes.”
The trouble is none of those things have ever happened to me and as you know I never exaggerate or fabricate.
I suppose I could easily have written a post on, “T- is for Today! The day my students broke every single one of our class rules.”
We only have four rules neatly pinned on the wall in a creatively designed, laminated poster.
Class Rules
1. Listen to the teacher and put your hand up to speak.
2. We pass pencils, rulers and erasers we don’t throw them.
3. We respect each other and treat others as we’d like to be treated.
4. When the teacher rings her bell we stop, look and listen.
I could have written about how little Cedric, whilst playing with his ruler in a reckless fashion flicked it into the ceiling fan whereupon it ricocheted off, narrowly missing my left eyebrow, effectively contravening #Rule 2. Oh how I laughed and laughed at that one.
Or I could have written an amusing little tale about how nine year old Aloysius, yelled in one of the girl’s faces because she daringly touched his lunchbox with her filthy girl-cootie hand and she retaliated by hitting an unassuming Cedric in the head with the same lunch box, violating #Rule 3 in one fell swoop.
It may have been appealing to pen a post about how, despite the fact my two (cough) noisiest students were at home on their sick beds, I stupidly let my guard down for a few minutes and #Rule 1 and 4 were broken simultaneously as I stood at the front of the class fruitlessly tinkling my weeny, little bell watching as a scene from the Attica Prison Riot played out.
Or, if my hands weren't aching so much, I could have written about how I had my angelic students colour in “Twenty Miniscule Poppy Flowers” each, to decorate our class ANZAC day wreath for assembly tomorrow and then realised when they’d gone home I had five hundred and twenty miniature flowers to cut out before I left for the day.
But no… those posts would be far too dreary. Sorry guys, I just cannot think of a thing to blog about today. It’s been a long one.
Or I could have written an amusing little tale about how nine year old Aloysius, yelled in one of the girl’s faces because she daringly touched his lunchbox with her filthy girl-cootie hand and she retaliated by hitting an unassuming Cedric in the head with the same lunch box, violating #Rule 3 in one fell swoop.
It may have been appealing to pen a post about how, despite the fact my two (cough) noisiest students were at home on their sick beds, I stupidly let my guard down for a few minutes and #Rule 1 and 4 were broken simultaneously as I stood at the front of the class fruitlessly tinkling my weeny, little bell watching as a scene from the Attica Prison Riot played out.
Or, if my hands weren't aching so much, I could have written about how I had my angelic students colour in “Twenty Miniscule Poppy Flowers” each, to decorate our class ANZAC day wreath for assembly tomorrow and then realised when they’d gone home I had five hundred and twenty miniature flowers to cut out before I left for the day.
But no… those posts would be far too dreary. Sorry guys, I just cannot think of a thing to blog about today. It’s been a long one.
