The eldest (7) reported back in detail yesterday about her day at school, which was a nice change and a distinctly different mood from the morning when she had stomped into school without a backward glance. My crime had been to point out – when she was refusing to get dressed whilst yelling at me to “Get out!” – that this was in fact my room and I needed to get dressed.
At school there was written work to be done, Romans and “The Selfish Crocodile”. Elodie cannot concentrate in ruckus and ruckus there was, given that the teacher was away and the teaching assistant was left in charge (temporarily). My daughter got upset/stressed/angst-ridden and was invited to the Deputy Head’s office to complete her work. There she found peace and some classical music to soothe her soul. I (being an inquisitive mother that’s more like the Spanish mob more than a feeble parliamentary one) asked if she recognised the tune. I was told it was “probably Beethoven”.
Then I enquired as to how the other children coped with working in a noisy classroom and she said
“Well, technically, they were the ones making the noise”.