Friday, 15 April 2016

In a class of his own

I have lamented many times before on this blog about the madness that is the bastard class bear.

And last year our particular bear really proved himself to be in a bloody annoying class of his own.

In mirth, and mild boredom at reading some of his other escapades, I photoshopped him at a lap dancing club, being barbecued (I wish) and finally on a rocket into outer space (purely for the amusement of my blog audience, he did normal things in the real diary).  We endured a fair few of his tedious visits last year as we had done with other class bears before him.

When the doors of the Primary School finally closed for summer I thought that was the last we'd see of him or any of his friends. Indeed, I was confident that I was sodding well done with this kind of thing.  Like a rite of passage, only slightly more germ ridden.

But it appears that I was wrong.

7.30 pm on Monday evening there came the email (Monday!  Monday ffs!  They had only been back at school for six hours!).  There was to be a new bear in town.

I'm not going to start photoshopping this time, there will be no fantasies about his gin stealing, poker playing, womanising ways.  But I think it's about time that I told you about why I cannot bear the class bear.

You best go and put the kettle on, it could be long...

The element of surprise. The bear gets sprung on unsuspecting parents at a split seconds notice.  You can tell how we all feel about this judging by the knowing looks of relief/pity that are exchanged outside the classroom door once the new bear caretaker has been revealed for the week.  And that sinking feeling, when you realise that it's your child carrying the bear and his belongings.  It's like finding out there's a school disco, PTA fundraiser and 3 school trips to pay for all in one week (oh, and a dress down day you've forgotten too), combined.

Cleanliness is next to godliness.  The bear is neither of these.  Just thinking about where he's been brings me out in hives.  And the children?  Always insist on sleeping with him tucked into bed an inch from their faces. He frequently also comes equipped with a toothbrush.  All I can think is 'Oh My God!  How many mouths has that thing been in?'  Everything looks a bit grimy and smells funny too. Of course. #itchingtostickhimonahotwash #quiteliterally

It is NEXT. TO. HIS. FACE. *boak*


Writer's block.  Not mine, but the kids.  Have you ever tried to get a six year old to write about the adventures of a mangy soft toy (usually describing an after school trip around the local branch of Aldi) when they are exhausted from a full day at school and would rather be playing Minecraft on the XBox?  Well, have you?  I know homework is seen as a good thing most of the time, but when it takes up an entire evening with all the photographing and then the handwriting, which. takes. about. an. hour. per. word. (finger space) then I start to tear my hair out a bit.  *sob*

Keeping up with the Joneses.  Not literally but if you've ever been tempted to have a quick read through all of the bear's escapades then you will know exactly what I mean.  As he visits each child in the class then the bear's adventures tend to get a bit more complex, exciting or expensive every time.  This for us has meant anything from reading about him hanging out in a hot tub all weekend to going on holiday to bloody well Spain.

We took this bear to look at some planes...  the following week he was in somebody's back garden hot tub.


This bear went to Jodrell Bank... which isn't quite as good as a holiday to Spain.


Thou shalt not covet thy neighbours hot tub/holiday to Spain.  OK I'll admit it.  I am a bit quite envious of the bear's hot tub and holidaying escapades.  Mainly because we lead an absolutely normal and average life. Which is in no way exciting.  Its no wonder the children never want to write any of it down really, is it?  The bear makes me feel like a crap parent.  Fact.

Yay!  We're having fun with the bear. In a National Trust garden. In the sun.  But is isn't quite like Spain... *sulk*


Crushing disappointment.  The bear is a reward for good behaviour in class (some reward, eh?), but what if your child has tried and tried every day for weeks to bring the bear home and then another child gets picked?  I have wiped away more than my fair share of tears from the faces of my children as I try to explain that even though they have tried hard, it doesn't mean they aren't good enough to have the bastard bear.  Is carrot and stick bribery really the only way that teachers can get their class to behave and do well these days?  What happened to everyone just taking turns? (which as it goes is a lesson a lot of kids could do with learning).

Also, if there was a rota this would mean I could book a quick flight on Easy Jet somewhere FUN, and hot, and exotic, hey, the bear could even bring a friend and join the mile high club (he's gotta have his vices, right?). BTW does anybody think I might need a holiday?

The visiting class bear is a grotty, energy sapping destroyer of souls, big and small.

And I'd quite like it if he'd take his great big diary of fancy adventures and germ ridden belongings and do one.

Maybe the rocket idea wasn't such a bad one after all...

1 comment:

  1. hahaha! I think the days of my girls bringing the class bear home are behind us. I hope they are anyway. I remember my youngest brought it home one weekend and it ended up staying for the full ruddy week because it was half term! We were the only family tortured this way! Nobody else had it a full week! I could have cried. lol

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