Some mothers...

You have classes at elementary school that make you think that it is the perfect job – the children are attentive and a joy to be with. I for one would definitely consider primary teaching as a career back in Scotland – if it weren’t for the snotty noses and stupid questions. Snotty noses are a daily hazard, much like being swept off a ship is a daily hazard for north Atlantic fishermen. All you can do is try and keep the little’uns at arms length. Then again, this is difficult when the kids jump all over you like you are a walking assault course. Eating with first graders is an absolute charm. Today I saw more half-chewed rice than one should see in a lifetime – mouths chomping away on rice while they discuss the price of origami paper. I mean really, what can be so important in a 5-year-olds life that can’t wait until they finish a mouthful of rice? One student, who I had the great pleasure of sitting beside, had rice in his hair. How does that happen? It wasn’t clear if it came from his bowl or whether it came, projectile style, from the mouth of the girl sat next to him.
I miss a lot of the stupid questions I’m asked, because I can’t understand what the kids are saying, but I catch enough to keep myself entertained. Three things fascinate them: whether I have a girlfriend, what my favourite food is, and how tall I am (I tell them I am 3m tall and they all believe me). Outwith these topics ("outwith" seems to be a Scottish word, so sorry if it sounds a bit odd), the questions get a bit random. Classics are: “Do you eat rice?” Why are your eyes blue?” Today I was asked, with all seriousness, “how do you come to school – by plane or by car?” I thought catching the number 73 down to Angel and walking to Clerkenwell was a tough commute; this kid thought I came from Scotland every week just to teach him animal names.
I learnt an important lesson today – don’t let 5-year-olds try to arrange a game of football. The whining, cheating and match fixing that goes on makes the Italian FA look principled. Football-wise, I’m on a bit of a golden streak at the moment – 3 goals in three games. This is actually better than it sounds. The games are pretty short, only about 15 minutes. That works out at 6 goals per 90 minutes. Paul Le Guen, I’m only a phone call away if you need me…and I think you do.