“Mike Church didn’t get any new likes this week”
Facebook can be so cruel! Once a week, they write to me with the same message. Before long, I imagine I will be receiving, “Mike Church didn’t get any new likes this month”... or “this year” even. They usually sign off with a recommendation to “publish a post to engage your audience”.
Sound advice, but easier said than done for somebody who spends most of their life otherwise engaged. At least, I’m still having fun in the classroom, albeit largely at my poor students’ expense. Here are a few of my favourite exchanges from the past week or so:
- I’m in charge of expeditions.
- Wow! That sounds exciting!
- Not really.
- Expeditions to the North Pole?
- I usually go shopping with my chariot.
- Like Ben Hur?
- Ben Hur. He used to ride around in a chariot too, didn’t he? Not sure they had supermarkets in those days, though...
- He didn’t realise he had been stolen.
- Maybe he was sleeping when they stole him?
- Yes, maybe...
- Today is the last day to buy bones.
- What sort of bones are we talking about?
- For lunch.
- That’s rather a sad lunch, isn’t it?
- Sad? Without bones, we cannot have lunch.
- I take your point, but I think you probably mean “vouchers”.
- We are not come for table.
- So what are you come for?
- I mean, if you didn’t come for the table, what did you come for? Or did you mean “COMFortable”?
- Ah, yes, “come for table”...
And, talking of tables, it’s time to get dinner ready, so I’d better blog off before somebody sends out a search party for me. Thanks as ever for reading this far
‘So what would you like us to talk about?’
‘You’re sounding rather miserable, dear. Is it something I said?’
‘No, it’s something you did, Miss Tedley.’
‘OK, let me guess … Are you angry with me because I uploaded all your photos to Facebook?’
‘Is it because—’
‘You did what?’
‘I uploaded all your photos to Facebook. Sorry, dear, I was bored and it seemed such a shame not to share those lovely pictures with everybody else. You’ve been getting a lot of hits, you know.’
‘You can say that again.’
Colin no longer had any strength left in him to argue. As far as he was concerned, Miss Tedley might just as well have stolen his diary and shown it to the world.
‘Or is because I photocopied that bit from your diary and put it up on all the notice boards?’
‘No, that’s not— You did what?!’
‘Don’t shoot the messenger, Colin. Oh, here’s your diary, by the way. You left it on your desk.’
‘Miss Tedley, you’ve got no right to take things off my desk!’
‘Haven’t I? I’m sorry, I didn’t realise, dear. I was only doing it to protect you. I was afraid somebody else might find it. Next time, why don’t you tuck it away in your middle drawer beneath all those magazines? You know, next to the tea bags and the—’
dayrealing, Chapter 19, “Real Good Looking Boy”