Monday One of the parents has called in the police. Her son has "lost" a large wad of Pokemon cards and she suspects one of his classmates. She's visited the other child's parents "but that was a waste of time" and so she contacts me. I investigate and tell both parties what I've discovered. "So you're pointing the finger at our Brian, then?" retorts the mother of the accused. "Well, it's always him and I'm not having it." I suggest to the head that perhaps we should have banned the cards earlier.
Tuesday We're on telly. A team from Yorkshire Television spent hours with us last week, filming our "Day of a Thousand Poems" during which pupils, parents and staff read and recited a variety of verses. The result is a 90-second spot tonight.
Social services, school doctor and education welfare meet me to discuss a family causing concern. Five children from two different fathers I can cope with, but one of these "dads" goes under six different names. Perhaps this could be a new version o Happy Families to replace the Pokemon phase.
Thursday The "Pokemon policeman" visits to interview both parents about the missing cards. He tells me he has to do it properly "because otherwise an official complaint could be made about me not dealing with a matter of theft". He's got other jobs after us: pound;20,000 worth of missing computers at another school and an abuse case. After interviewing the parents, he tells me that Brian's father has promised to send all his son's cards in tomorrow. The other lad can then take "whatever he wants".
Friday Our MP, Hilary Benn, presents the trophies at our "Mathstermind" final (two minutes quickfire questions, recite your 14-times table).
The missing cards arrive. I ask the "victim" to list his losses. He gives names in an alien language and I tick them off. This leaves 20 cards still to be recaptured. I'm thoroughly "poked-off". Can we have the conker season soon, please?
Colin Trenholme teaches at a Leeds primary school