As I walked my class up the road to the high school today for our ANZAC day assembly, one of my “bubblier” students, who’d only just returned to school after a sick day invigorated with dynamic energy, bounced around beside me.
“You know what, Mrs Poinker?” he enthused.
“No, Darius. What?” I asked, glancing back nervously to make sure no-one had slipped down a drain hole or anything.
“I’ve got $75 000 in my bank account now, Mrs Poinker!”
“Really, Darius?” I enthused as genuinely as possible, but realistically thinking it was probably more like $750 since we haven’t even learnt about five digit numbers yet and his mum and dad don't really seem quite that well off.
“Yeah, but I’m not allowed to spend it until I’m TWENTY FIVE!” he bellowed in outrage.
“That’s good. You’d probably just spend it on rubbish before you reached twenty-five don’t you think?” I replied, imagining what my own kids would do with $75 000. It’d all be gone in a week for sure.
“NO I WOULDN’T! I wouldn’t spend it on rubbish!” he bawled back. “I’d spend it on LOLLIES!”
The little girl marching beside me (who is also in possession of a unique brand of unnerving vim and vigour) interrupted.
“My sister’s only got $65 000 in the bank because she spends all her pay on shoes and clothes,” she remarked caustically. “Shoes with high heels, dresses for weddings; spend, spend, spend, she does. She wastes ALL her money. I can’t wait until that one gets married.”
‘I wonder where she’s heard that from.’ I thought to myself in amusement when I suddenly became aware of Darius still prattling on incessantly beside me.
“The ones with pig faces and sheep faces, Mrs Poinker! You know the ones!”
What was he talking about? What pigs? What sheep?
“The LOLLIES with the pig and sheep faces! That’s what I’d buy with me $75 000,” he sighed wistfully and stared off into the distance.
I can still remember when lollies were the most important thing in my life too. And staying up late.
And drinking limitless supplies of Coke. And eating ice-cream until it came out of my eyeballs.
What a pity I still can’t do any of those things.
“I’ve got $75 000 in my bank account now, Mrs Poinker!”
“Really, Darius?” I enthused as genuinely as possible, but realistically thinking it was probably more like $750 since we haven’t even learnt about five digit numbers yet and his mum and dad don't really seem quite that well off.
“Yeah, but I’m not allowed to spend it until I’m TWENTY FIVE!” he bellowed in outrage.
“That’s good. You’d probably just spend it on rubbish before you reached twenty-five don’t you think?” I replied, imagining what my own kids would do with $75 000. It’d all be gone in a week for sure.
“NO I WOULDN’T! I wouldn’t spend it on rubbish!” he bawled back. “I’d spend it on LOLLIES!”
The little girl marching beside me (who is also in possession of a unique brand of unnerving vim and vigour) interrupted.
“My sister’s only got $65 000 in the bank because she spends all her pay on shoes and clothes,” she remarked caustically. “Shoes with high heels, dresses for weddings; spend, spend, spend, she does. She wastes ALL her money. I can’t wait until that one gets married.”
‘I wonder where she’s heard that from.’ I thought to myself in amusement when I suddenly became aware of Darius still prattling on incessantly beside me.
“The ones with pig faces and sheep faces, Mrs Poinker! You know the ones!”
What was he talking about? What pigs? What sheep?
“The LOLLIES with the pig and sheep faces! That’s what I’d buy with me $75 000,” he sighed wistfully and stared off into the distance.
I can still remember when lollies were the most important thing in my life too. And staying up late.
And drinking limitless supplies of Coke. And eating ice-cream until it came out of my eyeballs.
What a pity I still can’t do any of those things.
Bloody middle-age spread.
