Right Dad’s away in Cornwall to do some boring work stuff. So I’ve got to make this post extra clear as he has to read it to find out what happened today.
Several interesting things happened today we had no swimming for the second time in a week. Plus there was my heart-warming experience. Listen to my tragic tale of woe:
I was sitting in the year six area reading, enriching my mind, when Mrs Sand-paper came in and threw me and several other poor, innocent children, who were either reading or doing important school work, out into the streets (well, the playground)! But Mrs Sand-paper insisted that we had to leave because there was no supervision. So us poor little children were chucked out into the pouring rain, most of us were taken ill with pneumonia (WARNING: Some of this paragraph may be exaggerated, but it was raining.) Others huddled together in the few sheltered areas for warmth. I myself ended up on the steps leading up to the canteen, squashing up to the bin, so I wouldn’t block the way in giving the other dinner-ladies an excuse to throw me out, soon a gang of ruffians had chased me away! (OK three boys sat next to me and read aloud over my shoulder.) I leant against the wall, until I heard the heavenly choir of angels that was the wet weather bell, signalling the end of my time outside! Just as the one-eyed gypsy (who was actually e, but a one-eyed gypsy sounds better) had predicted, on that cold, wet lunchtime when Mrs Sand-paper was forcing us to go out into the icy, bitter, acidic rain (OK maybe it wasn’t acid rain) “Soon he wet-weather bell will ring and throwing these poor orphans out will have been pointless.”
.P.S. This post was a reference to one of those Victorian novels. Just incase somebody out there didn’t get it.