MISS MEAN

Zak has had a relief teacher for nearly a week, his regular teacher has been away sick. According to Zak this teacher is mean and makes them do way too much work.

Well, Zak told us a very similar and convincing story about last years prep teacher too. Apparently she made him do pages and pages and pages (Zak's words) of writing every Monday, about what they had done over the weekend. So, after approaching Mrs Prep with Zak's concerns and viewing Zak's Monday writing book, only to find half a page of writing for each task (on big fat lines , I might add), one can understand why I took Zak's recent comment with a grain of salt.

Until I met her..........

This woman is from the 'Old School'. She is about 60, no nonsense, no smiling and a no time for distractions type of person. A minute in her presence and you feel like a naughty 7 year old child again.

Zak and I arrive to school late this morning, after my water feature decided to water the carpet in my lounge room (not happy!).
As we approach Zak's classroom , I see all the kids sitting cross legged on the floor with Miss Mean standing in front of the blackboard. One look at her and I'm scared! My mind is racing to try and come up with a quick and efficient way to explain myself without annoying her ( she honestly has that effect on me) I was thinking of getting Zak to knock on the door while I ran, but I managed to get brave ;-). Squinty eyed and oh so slowly, I knock on the door and gently open it. She just glares at me , I quickly correct my posture, (because I was slouching )and begin my rehearsed speech for being late, which came out like this " Umm, ummm hi, I'm sorry for being late but my carpet watered my lounge room and I had to clean it first, I mean.....". She says , completely ignoring my dribble " Zak, put your bag where it belongs and come and sit down." So I make my way into the bag room with Zak and help him with his jacket (not something I usually do , but I felt guilty for leaving him with one of Hitlers descendants). Miss Mean then says " Zak is quite capable of doing it himself!" Wanting to call her names by this stage,but with a class full of children present and being too chicken to follow through anyway, I kiss Zak instead take Sage by the hand and make my way out the door. Like any other seven year old I wait until she is out of sight and then mimic her out loud (but not too loud), I've been known to be slightly nutty first thing in the morning :-), I then mumble all the things that I wasn't brave enough to say to her face!! It was at that moment that I felt a tap on my back , I turn around and my nightmare materialises in the form of ....... yep, Miss Mean - standing there dangling my keys ..."Did you forget these?"