National Naughty Day

One day last week must have been National Naughty Day, probably an idea spread amongst the kids on Facebook or Bebo or MySpace in order to co-ordinate a mass nervous breakdown of the teaching profession just as news of the pittance of a pay-rise was released.

The lesson before lunch is the best time for Teacher's Revenge, because keeping back hungry growing lads because they have messed around actually means something to them. Sure enough, I told the class they could go, except for two naughty Year 8s who had worn my patience thin. As the class filed out, the two boys began gathering in worksheets and books as if they were well-used to the stay-behind-and-tidy-up routine.

I was about to give them a bollocking but the gleams in their eyes told me it would have no effect. So instead I went down the "very disappointed in you" line, telling them that I knew they had good brains in their heads, and wasn't it a shame they weren't using them, blah blah blah. But as I was telling them all this in a soothing voice, the Armstrong and Miller sketch that I wrote about last month popped into my head, and I found it increasingly difficult not to laugh, so had to cut short the pep-talk before I ruined the look of concern on my face...