To Sir with love.....

Well, stormed up the school, didn't I. To see Sir (Son's teacher). Said he'd been expecting me and ushered me into a "group room" opposite the classroom. We sat round a small table, with water and glasses and that, not that I got offered anything!

Sir whipped off his glasses, and tears came to his young and beautiful eyes. He declared he wasn't gay at all really. And that he no longer wanted to be married to this other bloke, as he now thought civil weddings were new age nonsense. He will get a divorce immediately as he now likes birds. Especially older ones with big breasts and that.

I begged him to control himself and think logically. But it was too late, he had buried his gorgeous head in my chest before I could say Bats For The Other Team.

Actually, what really happened was Sir said He'd knew why I'd come. And I said Don't you think you were a little harsh in Son's end of year report? Maths and English were his strongest subjects. And he got level 5's for Gods Sake. He shouldn't be graded in the Need to Improve category. And he said He had been ruthless, yes, as he wanted to give Son a wake-up call. A shove to do better in Secondary school. He was capable of so much better things, rather than keep mucking about with his mates.

He assured me he had been in turmoil about this. (I was in turmoil about him, I tell you!) and Son's report took the longest to write.

I said Thank You. And Sir said he was glad I came. I said So was I - but not for the reasons he thinks. I was glad, because I was this close to that gorgeous Jarvis Cocker look-alike teacher. . Better not tell him that , eh?

Anyway, after Friday, he will be history, as Son is out of primary school for good. From now on, Son has a lady teacher for the next five years, so Husband can clean up on that one!
Sigh!

Anyway, afraid Georgie Fame is well packed-up. Its Sir all the way for me now! Though I don't think the feeling's mutual.

Please Sir!

Been hauled off into the outside world again, o brothers. This time in the form of Son's year 6 teacher. In fact, we were hauled in to see him by appointment one morning - again.

Gad! That man's criminally handsome. Young, earnest, well-meaning. All bed-worthy stuff. He bats for the other team, a dinnerlady told me. But thats probably just a phase he's going through! I mean, he's only about thirty - what do you know at thirty -eh? He loves birds really. Especially experienced ones who are at least twenty years older!

I mean he goes on a bit. Talks a lot about that fancy book-learning and teaching and that. But bless him, he can talk about that for a while if he wants. I'll indulge him. Anyway, told Husband I was getting married to Son's teacher, and do you know, he just laughed. Said HE'd have more chance with him than I would. What does he mean?

Anyway, Son is not doing the work. He has a high ability but mucks about. I start gazing at Sir's hairy chest poking through his shirt. Does he know how many times I've heard this? From year One , was it? I can't come in and do the learning for him, love.

And a girls mother had phoned and complained to him that Son and his mates' made her daughter "uncomfortable" because they'were talking about Grand Theft Auto and other X box games and that. This was allegedlly in the playground. Well, I had no time for that shit! Can the silly cow not walk away then? Wanted attention from her career mother , did she? What a load of old shit.

er - thats it. Lunch is ready

Thought i'd get on here while Husband is watching "Lost". Get a bit lost myself with that bloody programme. But there is one thing that confuses me most of all: how in Gods Name does that bloke stay horrendously fat even when he's been months on a desert island? And its not like he sits around eating coconuts either, he's always up to some jolly jape or another.



And that John. I quite fancy his Dad. I don't know why he's so bitter that his Dad only found him and got to know him again so he could get his kidney donated to him, then dropped him like a hot brick. My Dad would have done that. Without a second thought too. Its just business sense. That John should realise that.



Anyway thats enough of that shit. My daughter's been giving me agro. Well, her mates have. The ones who live in her hair. Thought i'd got rid of those bastards. But blow drying her hair, a million of them fell out all over our bed. Luckily it was on my husband's side! I think i swept them all up but at night i lay there convinced they were going to get me. And i swear i felt one crawl over my scalp. But then i cheered slightly. I had just had all over highlights at the hairdressers (as opposed to the half head thing) so my hair was jam packed with chemicals. Suck on that, i thought sleepily, wasn't that what that man in taxi driver said when he shot someone through the stomach? Well, that nit will be out faster than a bishop in brothel raid in the morning. Bloody amateur.



And now, i've got to be nice to Son's teacher tomorrow - or at least civil. Had a big row with that fat bastard when my daughter was in his class. Git. And yes, he is still high on my Bastard List. But thats the trouble with a younger sibling, you still have to put up with these buggers. Anyway got to ask nicely if he will walk Son back to school after a bloody football match. Well, i;m not smiling at him - will just ask politely without looking at him. Then i'm coming home and scrubbing myself all over. Now i know how a prostitute feels!