Sunday afternoon, teaching in houses in the villages surrounding Gainsborough. The following exchange took place with 13 year old Marisa:
My usual, "Has anything really nice happened to you this week?" elicited the response that Dad had returned her iPod, confiscated a month ago as punishment for repeated top-volume shouting in the back garden.
"Oh dear," I replied, "How did you cope for a month without your iPod?"
Big grin. "No problem. I have a spare. For goodness' sake, don't tell him, or next time he will confiscate my phone, then I am in real trouble."
;D ;D
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Much later in the afternoon, I described the situation to 14 year old Katy and asked which of the two she would most dislike having confiscated.
The reply came without hesitation, "My phone. Mt life would end without it."
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In between, I pitched up in a tiny hamlet. Lincolnshire specialises in these - a handful of houses dumped apparently at random by some superior deity for reasons none of the rest of us can comprehend.
The village is home to 6 under 14's, two of whom (sisters) I teach. 11 year old Lizzie frequently has Becky in tow, so our lessons are frequently trio affairs.
These kids all play together. There is something about tiny hamlets kids; in my experience, they are uniformly lovely. This bunch are no exception, and I have met them all individually.
It seems that all the parents' houses are open to all kids in the village. Sunday, it was Lizzie's turn to be host. In trooped Lizzie for her lesson, followed by three of the others.
"Ehup guys," said I, "are we having a party? Make yourselves at home".
They did. I was sat on a chair on Lizzie's right, so the others dragged chairs from the dining table and arranged themselves on her left.
I did a quick head count. "Ok, so Steph (older sister) is not going to want to join in because her lesson is next, but that leaves one missing."
Molly chimed in with, "She is joining us in a minute. After Lizzie's lesson, we are going to play with the bhoy." I found out subsequently that one of the hamleters had bought one of these and it was proving something of an attraction to the kids.
Sure enough, child no 5 wandered in a few minutes later, saw there were no chairs available, meandered into another part of the house and returned dragging a chair behind her. It looked a little heavy, so I helped her out.
My lessons in this house usually include Daisy and Kit. Daisy is an Indeterminate Species Mutt; Kit is a Labrador pup. Typically, one is on my right, the other on my left, each with a head in my lap whilst each hand scratches whichever one is on the relevant side.
This time, I was abandoned in favour of the girls, so I at least had some hands-free time.
Now, nobody reading this would expect 4 unoccupied children to sit still and quiet for 30 minutes. I sure didn't, and was uncertain about how to exercise crowd control in a suitably pleasant and happy manner; I have not been in quite this position before. ;D
Granted, one of them suddenly leaped up an announced, "I am going to get Scratch." Scratch turned out to be a rabbit, who curled up in her lap and went to sleep.
That apart, the girls were perfect. They were so quiet that I found myself involving them just to make sure they were still happy; we had some laughs.
There was a downside to all this - the chocs thingy. With little ones like Lizzie's, they follow this pattern: one for playing their prepared material to me at the start of the lesson; one for some misc success during the lesson; one at the end for putting up with me.
Now, I cannot give to one child without also giving to any other that happens to be lying around. I know I don't have to, I simply cannot leave them out.
Expensive do, Sunday pm at Lizzie and Steph's.
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