Are Teachers Lizard People?

I’m sure some kids think their teachers are a species of alien life form. Whenever I run into one of the little munchkins in the shopping centre they look as shocked and alarmed as if they’d just spotted Big Foot loping down the aisle with a packet of Rice Bubbles under his arm.

They hide behind their mother’s skirt and grimace nervously as I greet them, probably wondering if I’ve furtively escaped from the school where I surely must abide in the lonely evenings; bundled up in a cobwebbed pod in the corner of the dark classroom like a horrible, giant spider.

Or maybe it’s just me they react to in such a way.

I accidentally scratched a cut on my arm one day and made it bleed.

“Look! You’re bleeding blood, Mrs Poinker!” they screamed in revulsion, eyes popping out of their small sockets. Anyone would have thought I was oozing green plasma the way they carried on. 

What? Do they think teachers are bloodless, inhuman, anaemic creatures akin to White Walkers?

Or perhaps it’s just me.

Today, I was sitting checking my emails as the class was finishing off a task and I leaned back in my chair and sighed deeply. 

I felt it immediately. 

The slow, annoying fly which had been buzzing around my head had spontaneously resolved to investigate the back of my throat.

At precisely the very next second, little Pontius stepped up to my desk, pleasantly proffering his book work for me to check.

I gave one sharp cough and the fly flew out in triumph, relieved at having escaped an imminent death via my esophagus.

Pontius stared, the whites of his eyes showing and his bottom lip noticeably trembling. 

"Was that a fly, Mrs Poinker?" he whispered in dread.

"Yes, Pontius," I murmured grumpily.“It was just a fly. Now give me your book.”

As I said, it’s probably just me.

What do you think?





Linking up with Grace at With Some Grace