Every year, we take all our books etc to school for day one. Every year we take our art pack on the first day. (Every year our art pack is more expensive - what happened to last year's equipment???) Every year Art is NOT on the first day... (Three out of three years in a row...)
So far we have a South African english teacher with a weird name and even weirder/warped sense of humour. At least the boy thinks he's ok. Apparently he gave up a job as Principal to come to NZ to teach the wonderful students at 'The name is changed to protect us from legal proceedings' High. So no complaints after one lesson.
We don't have the head of the science department nor last year's teacher. Yay. Actually the 'Head' is quite lucky he doesn't have the boy!
We didn't bunk, as far as I know.
('Mum, how do you expect me to remember everything. I don't know who my teachers are.' Should I be suspicious?)
Didn't see any signs of fighting. Nup.
The hair gel didn't work - no spikes. How sad.
We were actually home (and answered the phone) when the mother rang at 4.30, requesting the leg of lamb be put in the oven, which was to be put on 350 degrees. (Very good, it is farenheit!) We listened very carefully to the mother's instructions - where to find the roasting dish and all...
We made an excellent joke about it being a small lamb, seeing that it fitted in the fridge.
Too bad we forgot to actually put the roast in the oven.
And that, gentlemen and ladies, is what fathers are for...
I didn't do it. Oh yeah, I forgot...
Other related posts:
Reunion Time/ More Memories
Just you leave the worrying to me...
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