It’s the final countdown. I’ve calculated it’s 44 days until I make my great escape from the classroom. There will be many things I will miss but, as I’m sure many teachers will agree, there seems to be so much more that I will be glad to see the back of.

Number Seven – Wind

This particular bugbear of mine actually falls into three categories – all nouns, all pronounced the same way, all connected to movement of air and all something which can stop a lesson in one fell swoop.

Wind 1: Trapped

The pain from trapped wind is second only to childbirth, as far as I’m concerned. And there is nothing worse than when it strikes in the middle of a school day, since downing a bottle of Gaviscon then letting nature take its course isn’t really an option. Grinning and bearing it is the only option. 

“Miss! Why are you bent over double?”

“Because that answer you’ve just given me is absolutely hilarious!”

I’m actually bent over double and acting my bloody socks off to hide the agony I’m in because of that bloody Pot Noodle I’ve had to throw down my throat two minutes ago.

Wind 2: Escaped

Wind of the flatulent variety. Children have no filter. Ideally, I would attach a rose-smelling filter with a noise cancelling feature to each and every arse. Children are quite happy to trump a merry little tune as they move around the classroom, oblivious to the anti-social behaviour of their bottoms. Having to wear masks in the classroom during Covid was a much-welcomed inconvenience as it saved my nostrils from the daily onslaught of the scent of stale gas. And the sound of a pump is also the funniest thing ever to happen. It can render a class hysterical in a split second. I’m sorry Ricky Gervais, but all you need to do is trump a lot on stage and you could have an entire primary school in hysterics for the next hour.

Wind 3: Bedevilled

Wind as in the natural movement of air relative to a planet’s surface (I just googled that). Basically, everyday weather if you live in West Cumbria. It shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary, except, when wind comes into contact with small children, it has the most extraordinary effect. I don’t think it can be scientifically explained, but it basically turns them into little gits. Once a burst of wind hits their faces, they lose all sense of reason (or the little reason that they possessed. They become incoherent, giddy and impossible to educate. In my opinion, every lesson plan should have an appendix: in the event of wind, sack everything else off and do sweet FA instead. And I do not mean Fronted Adverbials!!