Author Archives: jon

Teeth (And A Bit About Eyes, Or Eye)

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I came back from putting Freya to bed this evening and saw Jo in front of the computer watching a Java advert about toothbrushes; this is on a Friday evening, mind, and so near Christmas – Eek!

Thankfully, she was searching for a decent electric-toothbrush for our daughter, and when I say decent I mean Spongebob Squarepants or Dora.

Apparently, and I had no knowledge of this prior to this evening, there are singing toothbrushes for purchase in this techno-fixated world we live in today, or, at least, toothbrushes that play a tune after two minutes’ use. Personally I think Jo is making it all up, but I want, must, believe such a product exists.

Talking techno-shite, I think the world needs a wi-fi toothbrush that feedbacks information to your computer, which then shows a wickedly detailed 3D picture of your teeth, pointing out how effective your brushing has been, at the same time indicating which areas need more attention. Maybe even playing a little tune?

Incidentally, talking of facial parts, I’ve noticed my right eye is shrinking. That’s the impression I get, anyway, and I’ve heard that this kind of thing happens with age. Every time I rub my (right) eye I hear a squidgy sound emanating from it, suggesting a small vacuum (due to a possible ocular shrinkage) filled with liquid.

As long as my eye does not plop out onto the floor during a lesson I’m not unduly worried, though.

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Ho, Ho, Holy Crap, It’s A Christmas Invasion!

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There are two ways to a secure a jubilant Jon at Christmas: buy every game-related item on my wish-list, or take any old shit (carpet-fluff, dog vomit, any Guns N Roses CD) and wrap it carefully in Paper Invaders wrapping paper.

Santa Claus and snowy scenes just don’t stand a chance against this must-have accessory, and it almost seems sacrilege to waste it on something that will end up getting ripped/thrown in the recycling bin after its intended use.

I might just check this site again after the Yule festivities have died down, to see if it ends up in the bargain bins.

An Attempt At Socialising

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We’ve just had a visit from Rich (the father of Freya’s school friend, Ester), who came over to watch the Wolves v Sunderland match on TV. He’s a West Brom supporter, but geographically and alphabetically the two teams are brothers. I suppose this, with the added delight of an evening’s drinking, became the excuse he needed.

As it turned out, Rich chose Guinness as his poison, and quaffed three cans during the evening. I, only wishing to be sociable, kept pace with some 7.5% lager. I could easily have stopped at two, knowing I was to drive the next day to pick up a free washing machine, but I was the host, and the atmosphere was good.

Next morning I felt a bit rough. I’m not sure if it was the alcohol or an oncoming illness that has now kept me away from work (this is being written on the Tuesday after). I did my best, under the circumstances to tidy up, and it was only then that I noticed the Guinness was 3.5%. I had been consuming the same quantity of beer as someone who had been lightweighting it.

Despite my regret at needlessly overdoing the alcohol it was a really enjoyable evening. We refrained from talking endlessly about our daughters and their school, instead finding other areas of combined interest to discuss. Perhaps the most intriguing of all Rich’s confessions is his ability to perform some hip-hop dance moves (did he mention spinning on his head?), which he has promised to show us on another occasion.

Roll on, next time!

A Signature Could Change My Life

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I was called in to the headmaster’s office today, to “renew” my contract. It was, apparently, something that the school’s insurance company wanted, but it fulfilled another purpose.

My new contract is a temporary one (two years), which is now fully legal, since I am working without a teacher’s exam. This also means that they can, at any time, get rid of me. This is, I believe, an important point.

I think the school is having economic problems, and is trying to decrease the amount of employees to survive this crisis. They have already dismissed a few, and I feel that, when/if the time is right, I shall be one of the next to go. Not because I’m a bad teacher (that much even I know), but that I can be easily replaced by the class-teachers.

When I was presented with the contract I made an unusual choice: I signed, fully conscious of the situation. I had decided, in the short space of time I was given, not to take away the contract and ring my union. This I did because of a gut-feeling.

For a while now, I have wanted to get the education needed to be a fully-fledged teacher, but I have had problems getting the correct information from the university that deals with teachers’ education. Each time I have been in contact with them I have been given different advice, so i eventually stopped asking, knowing that I was safe in my current employment.

My choice to sign a potential death-warrant has now allowed me the opportunity to get off my arse and study, should the worst happen. Which actually may not be the worst at all. Also, if I am given the sack, I shall know that the school does not really appreciate the hard work I carry out, and it is just as well that i do not work for them.

All in all, I think this is a gift. Either way I win, with a temporary loss (economically).

Body language

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We’ve noticed that when Freya is sad or angry she sometimes points to her arm or finger and says she has pain. This may well be a sign of pent-up emotions since, when we kiss the afflicted body-part better, she goes back to what she is doing without a tear or further complaint.

Janet’s former teacher also pointed out a while ago that Freya tends to put her fingers in her mouth in uncomfortable situations. We’d not noticed this unconscious movement, but we’re glad to say that this does not occur so often.