* I told my class of six and seven-year-olds that something special was going to happen to me at the weekend. They couldn't guess - Jane thought I was going to get "a new man"; Paul wondered if I was "getting a divorce" - so I told them that my daughter was getting married on Saturday. "Your daughter must be pregnant then," announced Hollie.
* The juniors were talking about a character they'd seen in a police drama the night before. Onesaid: "He won't go to prison; his mother is going to give him a lullaby."
* Two of my pupils were discussing their ages. The first, a little boy, said: "I'm getting old." His friend, a four-year-old girl, replied: "And me." I sighed and said: "Me, too." To which the little girl responded:
"Yes, I know you're getting old because you wear old people's clothes." I was wearing a mixture of Benetton and Next.
A J EVANS