Wednesday, June 14, 2006


The dead dog in the ointment

Dan in room 3, Adam in room 5. Earshot and eye contact, always dangerous. I didn't hear Adam's ice-breaker, but I figured it was "what's new?" or similar. His student pipes up with: "my lovely dog died."

My student is oblivious to this and has no idea why I crease up with laughter before she has even mustered a "hello." Looking up, tears in my eyes, I see Adam through the glass, struggling manfully to keep a straight face and doing his best to disguise sniggers as a cough.


This makes things worse, the effort of stifling my peals of mirth makes my ribs ache; the sight of me beating my fist against the desk over his bereaved student's shoulder does little for Adam's equanimity of demeanour. It wouldn't have been half so bad if she hadn't used the word "lovely."

Reminds me of my days in Old Sumi when I overheard one of my Irish coworkers yell loudly: "You have a pet CHICKEN?" to this HS girl.

A room away, I was in tears and nearly pissed myself. I had to leave the class and go to the staff room to get my composure back. I think we hurt the kid's feelings but when laughter strikes there's no turning back--vmm
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