Don't Worry, It's Just a Glove!

All in all, it's been a random kind of week!

Monday found me being observed and monitored by my boss and the SIP (school improvement partner, which is not as bad as OFSTED but still stressful) as I taught Dance to 30 four and five year olds. My objectives were clear, the children were concentrating and ready for action...what could possibly go wrong?!

Well, quite a bit actually! Just as the SIP and my boss had settled themselvs down to watch, the child DIRECTLY infront of them makes a rather small puddle. No forget that, puddle is completely the wrong word. Try river, lake, ocean and you'll get an idea of the quantity of liquid that was suddenly covering the floor! Marvellous I thought as I kept an outward cool and navigated the other 29 (and by now very curious) children away from the scene of the flood! What is it they say about working with children?

They also say never work with animals but Thursday saw me doing that too! It was World Book Day and I dressed as Old MacDonald with the rest of the staff in our team as animals (you need to make some allowances for poetic license here!) The children came in a multi-coloured array of nylon and polyester that gave off enough electricity to power a small tropical island for a month.

"Who are you?" enquired one little cherub. I should explain here that I was dressed in checked shirt, plaits, cowboy hat, jeans and wellies so I clearly wasn't Cinderella.

"I'm Old MacDonald" I tell her.

"But you're not Old!" the cherub replies.

Ten smiley faces for that child! I swept out to the garden like a teenager, full of life and joi de vive. Unfortunately this was short lived. In my attempt to teach the children how to skip, I decided to demonstrate. Now normally, skipping isn't a problem, but for some bizarre reason that could only happen to me, my back decided that mid-skip would be the perfect time to go! So who's not old I thought as I crawled back inside with my joi de vive screwed up in a ball. There's getting into character and method acting but seriously!

Luckily my good friends J and J invited me to their canal boat for dinner. So that was cooking taken care of - just the canal path, crossing the lock and the climb onto the boat to manage and all would be well! And it was. I sat by their wood stove with a wheatie on my back and a Co-codomol to suck on and suddenly the world seemed quite pain free.

By 8.30 (even for a school night, that is ridiculously early) I was in need of my bed. So J and the dog Ruby walked me back down the canal to the car. Crossing the lock entails a narrow metal ledge that runs across the top of the gate. Although there is a handle on one side, it can be quite exciting in the daylight so in darkness there's always an added sense of fun and danger, especially when Ruby spots something in the bush and does her best to heave you into the dark and filthy water. We're half way across with a 9 foot sheer drop on one side and a scuzz and litter filled lock on the other when I spot something that looks like a human hand - just hanging around, all bloated looking on the surface. Getting a second look isn't really a viable option so we continue across.

"Do you think that was a hand?" I ask J in a hushed voice

"I've got to be honest, it looked like one" she replies in a blood curdling stage whisper. "Now make sure you text me when you get home safely!"

The drive home is filled with the imaginings of an overactive, creative (and co-codomol filled) mind. By the time I arrive, I've envisaged a full blown series of Prime Suspect being enacted in East London. As per instructions, I text J and J to reassure them that the axe-murderer of Bow hasn't hitched a lift in my car and chopped off my hand to add to the collection.

"Glad to hear it honey, I checked the hand on the way back - it was just a glove. Sleep well x"

Talk about anti-climax!