16th February 2001 at 00:00
* 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.


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