Sun Flowers and Starting School

Despite popular demand I am back. The interregnum, for which I now have a soothing balm, was caused by employment problems, to wit, my getting a bloody job. And no, just for the record, I do not work for the international parcel delivery service UPS. Well, what has been going on in Sunny Mountain Street?

Yesterday, the daughter started at the big school, very emotional. When the kids arrived, the school director, Herr Reditary, gave each child a sun flower. Most of the rich kids knew that this was intended as a gift, a symbol of beauty, a new dawn and a warm sunny welcome. A few kids from the poor side of the street assumed it was an early lunch and had to be whisked off to A&E for a precautionary pumping.

Each remaining child was then assigned a Year 6 hoodie to lead them off to their new classroom and, presumably, to mug them for their lunch money on the way. The proud parents of those children not already in the ambulances were then invited to follow and to view the first lesson.

The school itself is a charming example of the Führer Bunker School of architecture. Obviously, only the very best reinforced concrete had been used and the arrow slit windows flood the building with light at exactly 6.45 pm each evening. All of the landings had brightly coloured anti-suicide nets lovingly strung across the gaps, charmingly decorated with Hello Kitty and Spongebob Squarepants motifs so as not to unduly alarm the first years.

On the way to the classroom we lost a couple of parents from the local traveller community. I think they were Roma or maybe Welsh. They were later spotted on the roof stripping off the lead guttering.

Finally, the parental rump was asked to sit on the itsy bitsy teenie weenie hard wood pixie chairs that had obviously been designed by someone into derriere based S&M, probably a Liberal Democrat. I tried to lighten the atmosphere by asking the teacher "does my bum look big in this?" No of course I didn`t, but it`s the thought that counts. We sat there for an hour and I lost all feeling from the waist down. The kids all had a great time which I am informed by the wife is the most important thing.

She says it was, all in all, it was a delightful experience despite what my memory bank log says. And she is always right despite what my memory bank log says. Strange that.