Saturday, November 26, 2005

The Second Wave

On Teachers' Day, I had my students over for a pot luck of sorts. It was loud, mostly in an alien language to me and junk food filled. Today is Packrat's turn to have his brood over. Once again, it's noisy, giggly and rather squealy. Plus they brought a cake over since Packrat is about to turn a year older in the next few days.

I have taken refuge in our bedroom. I have my DVD, a whole pile of laundry to fold and a comfy bed to recline on while the outer parts of my abode plays hosts to his kids.

Kids are funny that way. Why do they find it such an attraction to visit the home of their teacher? Do they think we live in cardboard boxes? Or better yet, at our desks in school? I recall the slack-jawed yokel look we got when some of my colleagues and I bumped into some students on a Sunday in the city.

Ah... I have just been asked to grant a tour round our bedroom. To which I have vetoed because the inner sanctum of a teacher's house must be kept an inner sanctum. Ha. No. It's my hidey-hole right now and I don't particularly want the kids to see the 2 baskets of laundry on the floor plus a while pile of news cuttings that I'm working on for next year. So, the lady of the house has rejected the request for a 2-penny tour round the bedroom.

I should be sociable and go outside and chat with these kids, but I think I'll hide. Packrat hides all the time when my friends come over, so I'm going to do the same. Plus I have a perfect excuse. I am, afterall, convalescing.

Ondine tossed this thought in at 13:05

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" Far in the stillness, a cat languishes loudly"