9.15am Arrive at school to be met by three FAS workers, two irate parents and a burst water pipe.
9.20am
Convince the parents that, no, their child is not displaying his sensitive nature very much in class, and yes, he will be punished again if he bites the other children. I try to appear unfazed by the two dead mice lying in their traps in full view and the growing flood outside the prefab door.
10am Still correcting homework and fielding questions on Irish grammar, while I call spellings to second class between copies. Tell third to skip the ones they can't do, and I'll deal with them after I see fourth class's maps of Ireland. Deirdre has a note to say that she couldn't do her homework because she had gone to visit her cousins and she won't be in on Thursday because she's going to get new winter clothes. Priorities, eh?
10.30am The suggestion that the Shannon rises in Limerick and the headache starts. That coupled with the old faithful reply to `Cad is ainm duit?' i.e. `Ciaran is ainm duit' and it's another Tylenol Tuesday.
11am Moaning and coffee. Gerry says that one genius in sixth has announced that he's giving up dotting his Is from now on, on the grounds of timewasting, and the postman arrives bringing three Viking catalogues and news that our Diocesan Examiner will be paying us a visit in three weeks' time. The photocopier refuses to do more than three copies without jamming, so that puts paid to the maths test.
11.30am Hear myself throwing out the last pretences of child-centred learning as I advise my class to dispense with the concrete objects and instead remember, `If the big number is on the bottom, you always regroup.' As the ad says, Just Do IT!
12noon We make a pious foray into religious matters in deference to `the Visit.' A lesson about Levi the Tax Collector and his dubious practices and I can't help admitting the advantages of the PAYE system. Mind you, knowing the backgrounds of some of my charges, it would take Levi himself to sort their affairs out.
12.30pm My daily punishment in the form of yard duty. I march around trying to keep warm, sort out who pushed whom, who ate who's bar and finish my own tuna sandwich at the same time. Did I hear Cliona announcing that Derek is a dork, or will I carry on chewing and let the digestion process continue uninterrupted?
1pm The mobile library arrives at the exact minute the local football team come bearing their spoils. An impromptu speech is hastily put together by the principal, as she struggles to remember which of these six-footers are past-pupils. We have a relay system surreptitiously working the library at the same time.
2.55pm The team have brought crisps and the prospects of a half-day are looking distinctly promising. A solitary mouse gazes longingly at half a bag of crisps. We hear that our photocopier has finally given up the ghost and plain died. We know the feeling.
