Flashed and Embarrased

For so many reasons yesterday was the best day ever; my man back from the states; Kate Bush pre-order leaving me attending three dates - can't actually convey how much this means to me. But then there are the pitfalls of teaching 40 kids in one day.

The first class consisted of two of the seven toddlers, screaming and balling because they wanted to go outside with the other children. Cue some classical tones of Beethoven to soothe them into silence. It really does work.

The second class consisted of me fending off the children not taking part in the class whilst the teachers sat on their asses not doing a great deal. I'm not actually there to entertain the rest of the kids, that's your bloody job.

Then the third class showed the weirdness and down right cruelty of kids. One of the children who every week tries to join in and I have to tell him to come off the carpet area and go and play with his friends, proceeded to flash at me. And I mean, yes, tiny willy flashing. Very inappropriate and slightly insulting. I thought he was going to wee on us for not letting him join in. Little bugger. I think if his mum enquired about the lessons, I wouldn't have him on principle. It was almost like him giving me the finger, in an altogether more disturbing way. Ew.

Then, also within the third class, baring in mind the classes are half an hour each, and follow straight on from one another and contrary to popular belief, women do sweat; one of my kids decided to oust my sweat patches. The embarrassment.
"Why is your top wet Helen?"
NO! The shame!
I told him the truth and rolled my sleeves back all the way to my shoulders to try and hide it. I mean come on, even adults are polite enough not to say anything even if they notice the old sweat patches.
Damn inquisitiveness.

All in all I had been flashed and embarrassed but I still had tickets to three Kate Bush shows! Whoop!

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