Today we had our appointment with the headteacher to have a chat and a look round the school.
The Kid and I arrive 20 minutes early and sit on the village green eating our sandwiches. We find a few children nearby, constructing a rope bridge over the stream, and help them test it. Pretty good, I think. I resist the urge to ask why they aren't in school.
With uncharacteristic punctuality we walk in the door on the dot of 2:00. The head invites us into his office. He seems OK, a bit "old school" but perhaps that means he'll have some common sense. My usually chatty child is utterly silenced by the surroundings and his aura of authority, and proceeds to keep her mouth shut throughout the entire visit. He tries to draw her out with some easy questions. Not a word.
Never mind, I think to myself, he'll be hearing plenty from her soon enough. It turns out that he'll be teaching her class two days a week. He doesn't know what he's in for!
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