Saturday, 24 January 2015

Soggy tights and butter mounds

As the doors to Sunnyside School were flung wide this morning, thirty red-cheek, windswept little learners blew straight in. 

Along with the howling gales that had swept them through the classroom door, an ill-timed deluge of rain had also managed to soak each and every one of them right through to their skin. Within minutes dripping wet trousers, skirts and tights were whipped off and hung from every surface in the Reception classroom in order to dry. Following a swift change into their P.E. kits, those undeterred little learners immediately leaped into their activities with their usual gusto and excitement.

Sadly, gusto and excitement had bypassed one particular little learner at snack time today when she took part in a sandwich making activity. It was Mrs Caring who noted the decidedly irritated little learner struggling to spread a gigantic mound of butter on her scarcely visible slice of bread. After a few moments of observing her tutting and muttering, Mrs Caring seated herself next to the demoralized little learner and asked, "Can I help you poppet?" 
"Yes please," replied the little learner casting aside her knife and slumping down in her chair. 

Mrs Caring took the greasy knife and began to scrape away the copious amounts of butter on the little learner's plate, and just as she was thinking she could finally detect some remnants of bread lurking beneath, the fed up little learner sat bolt upright and blurted out for all and sundry to hear, "Anyway, when I'm King, I'm not doing anything.....I'm just going to sit down all day!" 

As a rather startled, yet smiling Miss Kind found a fresh slice of bread for the self-proclaimed heir apparent, she thought to herself that's it's probably never too soon to settle on a career ever ambitious it may be.

When I'm King

Yes it's true I tut and mutter,
When I'm trying to spread me butter,
I get in such a pickle on my own.
So when I become a king, 
I'm not doing anything,
I'll bark orders from the comfort of me throne.

When I am 'Your Majesty'

Everyone will wait on me,
Then you'll never hear me tut or moan again.
The only words I'll utter, 
Will be 'fetch me bread and butter,'
I will be the archetypal royal pain! 

"Off with them crusts.....or heads will roll!"