School Spirit

Term Three has just begun as of today, and that means a new theme or general topic we’ll be starting as well. As it’s an even numbered year, we’re back to teaching Energy as our theme for the term again. Electricity, solar and wind power, energy conservation - stuff like that. Also, I’ve got the fun task of putting together a few weeks or work based on Toys.

Yep, that’s right. Toys.

Toys use energy, too, remember. Most of them nowadays rely on batteries and electrical energy to run, of course, but that’s not necessarily always the case. We’ll fiddle around with some Lego Technic kits and stuff, check out static electricity by rubbing balloons in our hair, might possibly make some kites, and make balloon powered cars and rockets. Lots of fun stuff there. Potential energy, kinetic energy… lots of fun.

If I get time, I might even put a few of the activities up here from time to time as well - let you see what the kids can get up to.

For now though, this song fits in appropriately with our current Toys theme, although maybe not so much the Energy theme. Too bad there, though. It’s a great little song and more often than not the kids enjoy it too. Every now and then one of them pipes up to say their dad may have sung it to them too when they were ‘little kids’. It’s written by Tom Paxton, but here’s Peter, Paul and Mary singing it. Mind you… they have a bit of fun with the ending!

THE MARVELLOUS TOY

When I was just a wee little lad, full of health and joy,
My father homeward came one night and gave to me a toy.
A wonder to behold it was, with many colours bright
And the moment I laid eyes on it, it became my heart’s delight!

Chorus
It went ‘zip’ when it moved and ‘bop’ when it stopped
And ‘whirr’ when it stood still.
I never knew just what it was and I guess I never will.

The first time that I picked it up, I had a big surprise.
For right on its bottom were two big buttons that looked like big green eyes.
I first pressed one and then the other, and then I twisted its lid
And when I put it down again, this is what it did,

Chorus

It first marched left and then marched right and then marched under a chair
And when I looked where it had gone it wasn’t even there!
I started to cry and my daddy laughed for he knew that I would find
When I turned around, my marvellous toy, chugging from behind.

Chorus

The years have gone by quickly, it seems, I have my own little boy
And yesterday I gave to him my marvellous little toy.
His eyes nearly popped right out of his head as he gave a squeal of glee.
Neither one of us knows just what it is, but he loves it just like me.

It still goes ‘zip’ when it moves and ‘bop’ when it stops
And ‘whirr’ when it stands still.
Neither one of us knows just what it is, and I guess we never will.

Chords here are in D, but you can transpose them wherever you wish, I suppose. I fiddle with a capo on third fret and play in C instead.

D / A / D / A / G / D / E / A /
D / A / D / G / G / D / A D / A

Chorus:
D / A / D / G / G / D / A / D

You hear a lot of talk about teachers through the media and your every day man on the street. Your every day woman on the street too, but I’ll use the common phrase here and if anyone gets their back up because it’s not politically correct then just substitute the gender of your choice and read on, eh?

That’s the way.

Especially now that, here in Victoria, the Government and the Union have come to terms over a new pay deal (which is still to be signed off on - no word on when that may happen, but that’s another issue I’m not interested in rabbitting on about), there’s talk about what we should also be doing to earn it. Or, what we’re already doing to earn it but what the Government wants us to do as well. I’m just going to leave this bit hanging though and say that, often, especially in regards to building a relationship with the kids, it doesn’t start and end with those two book-end bell tolls at the start and end of each day. I find it carries on, and is often more powerful, when developed outside the school setting.

And I’d like to add too that, for me, it’s just as rewarding for myself as the kid, maybe more so in some cases. At school, the relationship is always that of the student and the teacher. If you play the card right though, outside of the school setting, these kids you’ve made an effort getting to know start to move closer to equals without losing that respect for you. I know several kids who see me closer to an equal rather than just a past teacher because they saw me showing an interest. In school situations they switch back (usually, it must be said - you can’t always keep the cheek down, eh?) to that student to teacher relationship, but once outside of that again, it’s back to a healthy mutual respect.

I’m sure other teachers may disagree with this in some cases and prefer not to blur that line between the relationship, and that’s fair enough. For me though, a bit of blurring outside of the school grounds can work wonders for both parties. There’s things kids won’t necessarily feel comfortable sharing with a teacher, but if they see you as something more than that, they’ll open up if they think they need to.

Here’s where I’m going to with this.

One of my kids let me know that he and his family were off to watch the footy on Saturday night, down at the MCG. We both support the Bombers, despite their very ordinary year so far (and the prospect of much more pain to come in the near future!), and I told him that I’d be down there watching too. Well, he had to know where I’d be sitting so I showed him the back of my membership card and he told me he’d be sitting somewhere down at ground level.

‘Maybe I’ll see you there then, eh?’

By Friday they’d given me their seat number so what else could I do but wander along before the game started and say hello, eh? I’ve met with kids at the footy the odd time before (once sneaking my way into the ticketed Members stand to do so - that’s another story), and besides, this kid’s a real genuine little feller. I caught them wandering out of one of the retail shops there just before the game (there goes $100+ in merchandise right there!) and had a quick little chat with him before the match started.

Then the family coming with them appeared around the corner. Someone’s been telling stories about me because once I’d been introduced (’who’s this bloke hanging around your son?’) it was all excitement from these people I’d never met. I’ll have to ask him what was said on Monday… you shouldn’t get that excited meeting a kid’s teacher at the footy, surely?

Anyway, instead of sneaking into their ticketed area to find them for a decent chat later, we organised to meet just beyond that rail I wasn’t allowed to step beyond (but I’d have found a way…) at halftime.

Now, I know right now that this is now one family I’m never going to have an issue with, and one kid who I’m pretty sure I’ll have on my side for the rest of his primary school career. How? One little visit at a place the kid is interested in. Show you share their interests (even if you wouldn’t generally do so normally - kids just appreciate you turning up) and their trust just builds.

And what did I get out of it?

A got half an hour of quality time with a top little kid and his family and a strong little parting handshake.

Monday it will be student to teacher again, but below that facade will be a stronger level of respect from both of us.

To me, that’s something that will help the kid more than a week of schooling.

Today was the first of three days of NAPLAN testing. That’s the National Assessment Program Literacy and Numeracy test. Long name, needs punctuation.

On today’s menu was an early morning entrée of Language Conventions. They featured a side dish of spelling, a garnish of grammar and a whole lot of punctuation. Suggested serving size - 40 minutes. I photocopied the Grade Threes’ test this morning before they came in (shrunk down to fit two pages to a sheet, double sided to save paper) and gave them to the Grade Fours. Why give one test for half your kids when you can test the whole lot and then have assessment evidence for them all for when you write reports in the next few weeks? A few of the Fours finished it all within ten or fifteen minutes, but most of them used up the forty minutes suitably.

With the first of four tests done and packed away, one lap of the oval and five or ten minutes running madcap around the jungle gyms just outside the classroom to let them move and make some noise again. That’s one good side to being in a room separate from any others. You can let them run loose on the odd occasion without really interrupting anybody else. Then it was back inside to carry on our class serial novel and out to recess.

The second course was delivered just after recess. A forty minute Writing test. The topic - ‘Found!’ Write a narrative of your own using your own ideas or inspiration from the ’stimulus’ sheet (a flash piece with words, pictures and suggestions about the topic ‘Found!’ they all got to look at). Five minutes planning time (’What’s planning for?‘), thirty minutes writing time, and five minutes at the end to edit your work (’What’s editting for?‘). One change I noticed to this year’s new look tests is they can only write on the three pages they’re given. They used to be able to grab some extra paper and staple it to their booklet if they needed to write further. Not so this time. I suppose that cuts back on the kid who writes and writes and writes and forgets all about plot, character, interest and keeping the reader awake.

You know the stories I’m talking about. They’re often written by girls (no offense intended, but you can’t argue with the facts!) and often involve ALL of their friends and often either kittens or puppies who end up getting married and wear bows. All this spread over six pages of grade three handwriting with scant regard for spelling, full stops or indeed any of the general fundamental rules of English grammar!

Yeah. Those ones.

That all done, finish off, give all the kids and myself a lolly (because, come on, we deserved one!), pack the tables up, and outside into the sun for another five minutes of running around remembering what it’s like to be a kid again before lunch. Which, thanks to some great May sunshine, we had outside.

After lunch? Aw, we’ll just let the kids sit a Trivia Challenge, eh?

‘Can you help us with these questions now?’

‘Nup, can’t help you with these ones either. Just like NAPLAN.’

‘So… why’d you even bother comin’ to school, eh?’

‘Cheeky kids get clips over the back of the head!’

Once the day ended, I found myself sitting down at a table ticking through the photocopied grade three tests to see how they did, as well as the grade four tests as well. I’ll read the stories more closely tomorrow.

So yes. There was Day One of NAPLAN. First up, make them sit the Language Convention part. After recess, sit the Writing piece. After lunch, a Trivia Challenge just because it was the only time this week, and they’d be used to tests by now, eh? After work, correct through the Language Convention pieces.

After that? Off to Tuesday’s basketball match. No coach. Okay. Guess who spent the first two minutes of the game standing by the sidelines calling out ‘Shoot a goal! Shoot a goal!’ until the coach arrived? Yep.

And they actually got one too!

Then they went on to win the match 44 to 12.

I like to think my two minutes of coaching inspired them to greatness.

Straight off the bat from our excursion to the local National Park alpine rainforest on Friday, today saw the entire 3/4 Unit catch a couple of buses across town to the local Showgrounds. There, amidst the mild May rain, beneath the blanket of cirrocumulus clouds blocking out the sun, and rolling through the damp grassy expanses of the town’s main oval, they were to run through a gamut of various fun footy skills, all under the eye of players from the St Kilda Football Club.

Well, we were there, and so were the players… but it didn’t quite turn out like that.

Seems they decided to pack up all the activities because of the light rain once we got there. This disappointed the kids, but it seems it was done to avoid the possibility of any injuries. The kids now reckon this is the one reason why St Kilda will never win a Premiership. How can you expect to be the best if you’re too scared the play in the rain? The kids were all fired up, but they got over it.

Instead, both schools who had turned up were ushered into the members’ bar rooms. First there was one inside session with a few players, then a question and answer session with the others in another part of the building. The first activity? Heads and Tails.

You know the game. If you choose Heads, you stand up one end of the room. If you choose Tails, you stand up the other. The coin is flipped, and the winning side stays in the game and another round begins. Easy. Now picture it with approximately 100 kids! Can you imagine what was going through our minds at this point as teachers?? Yup. Chaos and bedlam! To be fair though, the kids kept themselves under control fairly well, and the footy bloke managed to keep them all entertained through three entire games of this before we eventually decided enough was enough and sent the entire lot of them for a run around the outside of the oval.

Next, it was in to share questions and answers with the other players. I must say that the three we spoke with did a fantastic job. They listened and answered all the kids questions and kept their attention all the way through, often having them rolling with laughter at various spots too. They came across as very nice individuals and the kids left raving about them. Even kids wearing different coloured footy tops were lining up to get their backs and sleeves signed. The players themselves, they thought it was great signing their names on the guernseys of teams they didn’t even play for!

All up, it turned out to be a good afternoon, even if I didn’t get to man the tackle bags activity this year. I was really looking forward to that…

You can line the kids up and absolutely smash them into the ground, and they think it’s absolutely brilliant!

I call it ‘Name Your Mark’.

Maybe next year, eh?

I’m not a baseball fan. I’m aware that there’s an Australian team we occasionally hear about every now and then when they pop up in the Olympics, but that’s about the extent of it. I’m even vaguely aware that there is a local club that represents our local town, and a few of the kids at school play in the junior league. To me it’s always been a typically American game and not large enough in Australia to gain any coverage to keep me interested. But I AM interested in the achievements of the kids running around in the playground, and I stumbled over a local newspaper article last night by accident that involves both.

I very rarely read the local paper because there’s generally nothing of interest in it. I only picked this one up because Mum likes to read it and I was heading that way and had stopped in at the local shop on the way anyway. So I opened it to have a browse and caught a photo of one of the kids. He’s not one I teach, and he’s not one I’ve taught previously, but he’s one I’ve known for a few years just from running around the yard and my basketball spectating. He’s still a year aware from my grade level, but he also says ‘g’day’ every time he walks past.

Anyway… his face popped out at me from the paper and, surprise surprise, it ended up being the only article I read. First, the good news.

First game of the season (it’s Teeball rules at Under 10s level - baseball rules at Under 12s), and only his second season playing the game (apparently he spent every night last season sleeping with his team hat on!). This little feller last weekend performed a triple play - apparently the rarest feat in baseball. He’s managed to get all three ‘outs’ in one fell swoop. Fielding at second base, he’s caught the batter out, then tagged the runner coming towards him from first, then ran down the player running from second to third to tag him out as well. He must have been fair belting across the field to manage that. Apparently he was then swamped and over-run by his entire team with high-fives flying left, right and centre, and fair enough.

But my grizzle was… I saw him every day last week and he didn’t mention it once!

So… Monday morning I’m gonna stride up to him and belt him around the head with the newspaper article a few times and ask him what the deal is! How can an eight year old keep something like that quiet from anybody? Then I’m going to do the same to one of his team mates who’s actually in my grade and didn’t mention a thing either.

Keep things from me, will they?

Related Posts: Scoring for basketball… leads me to drink!, Scoring for basketball… the sequel

Technorati Tags: baseball, sport

Saturday night a week and a half ago now, the final day of the Easter holidays, I went down to Melbourne to watch the footy and support my team. It was the first home game of the season and our first game we could get to this year. We beat the Old Enemy (well, one of the two Old Enemies) so all was good with the world and I bellowed my lungs out in support of the Glorious Crusade.

Sunday night, the day before I’m due back in the classroom to front the kids, I start to feel a little sore in the throat. Shouldn’t have yelled quite so much. I’ll be okay though, the kids were just about working well and quietly two weeks ago. We’ll just carry on nicely as though the last fortnight hasn’t been missed.

I fall for that every holiday!

Reached Wednesday night and the throat has not gotten sorer, it’s actually cleared up, but the voice has gotten croaky. Thursday, tough day not being able to talk louder than the kids (wasn’t gone, the kids are just a little rowdy this year), and there’s only so far holding one hand in the air and waiting for them to face you can go. By the end of the day, we were sort of glad to put the day behind us and pretend it never happened.

So… what better way to remedy a rapidly disappearing voice? Spend the last day of the week at the District Sports directing kids to all of their events, of course!

Gawd…

Actually, the voice survived the day quite well. I gargled a few glasses of warm, salty water the night before and softened the chords up enough. I just didn’t talk all that loudly with the kids on the day. Made cheering loudly for them as they approached the finish lines a little harder, but a quiet pat on the back or a knuckled nudge to the shoulder as you walk past afterwards is often more suitable and meaningful. Quiet recognition can carry a lot more weight, I reckon.

The kids did really, really well. Only about ten or so actually received any ribbons, but that’s not really what we consider these sorts of things about. Every one of our kids that fronted up for a race or event left nothing behind and tried their absolute guts’ out. You can’t ask more than that. When a few had a quiet grizzle about coming third last out of twenty seven competitors and stuff like that, I just asked them a simple question.

‘Are you at school doing maths right now?’

‘No.’

‘Then there’s a win right there, eh?’

Even better, the kids behaviour was fantastic. Only a few issues that cleared themselves up easily, and for the most part the kids not competing kept themselves occupied with a tennis ball, a nerf ball, and a footy they found… somewhere. They even threw together a scratch match against the kids from another school. We had to call it off after about forty minutes or so of continuous play as it was just about to get nasty. Our kids came back complaining.

‘They cheat! They change the rules and call stupid free kicks!’

‘That’s why I called the game off, fellers.’

‘Yeah, we weren’t gonna win.’

‘It’s not winning the game I’m worried about. I stopped it before you won the fight afterwards!’

That picked their spirits up a bit!

Technorati Tags: sport, children’s sport

Last week saw me scoring a kids’ basketball match (okay, just pressing the buttons and controlling the scoreboard… not the actual sheet with the important stuff that gets signed by the umpires and stuff later… but the kids only care about the scoreboard, eh?) and then stopping off at the local bottle-o on the way home because the madness of the experience left me ‘needing’ a drink.

Note the quotation marks around the word ‘needing’… I probably could have done with just a good few deep breaths, but good deep breaths, although they’re good and deep, just don’t taste as good or deep as scotch, eh?

Well… one week on and I’m back there again, sitting down a little before the game while the kids start turning up… and this time it’s the umpire who approaches me and suggests I help score again. Fortunately there was a young girl from the other team who was willing to do the paperwork side of things, so I agreed. Her mum was sitting right next door, so that was good too as I taught the girl six years ago and I assured them I’d barrack for my team and their son. He’s another I’ve taught as well so I was more than happy to do that.

Anyway… seems it’s like scoring is like falling off a bike. You never forget how. Or is that riding a bike… anyway, you always remember both, eh? The scoring worked again, and I must have felt confident this time around as I spent as much time watching the game and pressing the (mostly) correct buttons as I did arguing in a friendly manner with the girl and her mother about everything we could think of. Much less stressful this time!

End result - the kids had a good match and ended up winning about 51 to 39. High scoring, so I guess my fingers were moving quicker than last week, but once more the scores matched up to the score sheet. Well… pretty much. When we found a 2 point discrepancy between us, she just added it onto her sheet instead of worrying about removing it because she figured the other team were far enough behind it didn’t really matter!

More importantly, especially in regards to possible future visits to certain anonymous meetings, I didn’t feel like I needed a stiff drink once I’d finished. That has to be a positive, eh? I think it means I’m a competent scorer now and could do it at the drop of the hat! That’s something worth celebrating, eh?

With a stiff scotch!

Related post: Scoring for basketball… leads me to drink!

Technorati tags: basketball, kids sport.

Sunday morning, the sun’s already belting down before nine in the morning, and anyone with half a brain is planning on spending the last day of their weekend holed up indoors either camped in front of their air conditioners or spending time with a bag of granny smiths inside the crisper compartment of their fridge. Not me. No, this particular Sunday, with the mercury tipped to rise up like a furious Messiah beyond 38 Celsius, I’m driving into town to the club’s presentation day. Why? Because when they said to me in November, ‘hey, you’re here killing time after work anyway, and you work with little buggers this age, you can coach the Under 12s!’

And me? I said, ‘yeah, okay’.

Jokes aside though, this day is probably the most important of the year for those kids, even though I doubt they realise it. They turn up to train once a week before the older teams and are usually all finished and back home again before the senior players rock up later in the afternoon after work. They turn up each Wednesday afternoon after school and run around like mad cats across the various local ovals across town chasing red leather balls or, if someone’s actually managed to take a catch, after each other. We don’t technically keep track of who wins or loses these matches, and if they ask ‘did we win’ and we reply ‘well, you played really well’, they tend to grab each other in communal group hugs or ’stacks on the mill’ cheering ‘we won, we won!’ Life can be so simple when you’re young, eh?

Despite all that, and the fun and enjoyment they get from just getting out there and having a red hot go, I still think that the presentation day at the end of the season is one of the most important for them. It’s the one day when the rest of the club actually realises they’re there. The Under 14 and 16 teams play each week and with luck reach finals and, appropriately, are talked up to the rest of the senior members of the club. When they play finals, there’s always several members of the senior teams turning up to support them throughout the day. Not so the Under 12s.

Presentation Day is the one day of the year when the rest of the club recognises that they are a part of the club, and importantly, they’re the future of the club. This is what I tried to bring across making my impromptu speech handing out their little trophies. Not only were they being presented to the club on Sunday, but I made sure I mentioned something particular about each young kid too. They’re not just little tackers running around in games that don’t really count through the week, these are kids that love the game, love playing together and are the future of the club.

I was rapt at the end when they presented me with a parting gift for the season. A cricket helmet… the last piece of gear I needed and was too stingy to buy! Now, after three seasons, I finally have a full collection of gear. I should have held out and tried to get them to give me a cricket bat next year, eh? But I guess the one item I’ll treasure most is the photo of the team. It’ll end up on a wall somewhere around here an, one day, when some of these kids reach the A grade team, I can look back and think ‘I can barely play this game, but bugger me, this kid playing A grade… I was his first coach!’

Anyway… although their presentation only lasted about twenty minutes, the rest of the club was now aware of who these little fellers were, and they now knew something more about them.

Once that was over, lunch arrived, the rest of the presentations were made, the kids all went home, and we watched the Under 16s play the Legends (over 40s) in the now annual challenge match. The young fellers did well, but the Legends retained their undefeated status and much amber fluid was consumed.

Once the game concluded and most went home, with the day still hot and dry, somehow the buckets came out and anyone who wasn’t quick enough or wasn’t paying attention got drenched in water. I didn’t end up dry until I got home at 11pm! Couldn’t really complain though, eh? I figured if a kid could now come up to me, give me that little cheeky glint in his eye and then throw a full bucket of water at me and not grizzle when I caught the bucket and tipped the last half on him, then I guess that’s respect of a sort, eh?

It’s the respect I’d prefer, anyway!

Guess I’m coaching next year now too…

Related posts: Coaching Under 12s… the final cricket match of the season.

Technorati Tags: cricket, kids sport, coaching.

Deary, deary me…

It’s been almost three years now since I first found myself wandering into the local basketball stadium to watch two of the kids play a game or two of their first season of Under 10 basketball. The little feller asked me, paraphrased a little but very close to the true words, ‘Mr V, you’ve gotta come watch me play basketball!’

To which I honestly replied, ‘mate, I don’t like basketball!’

To which he honestly replied, ‘yeah, but you like me!’

I don’t know if he realised it then, but he had me hook line and sinker right then and there. I’ve probably watched 95% of all of his matches since, now.

Which leads me to this afternoon. After nearly three years, and this kid now starting Under 14s (although he and the other little feller I watch in the team are still yet to turn 12), I ended up sitting behind the scoring bench for the first time. Buttons! Fair dinkum, buttons everywhere! So many buttons, so few fingers, so little real understanding of the game beyond ‘ball goes through hoop, cheer like mad!’ Thankfully I knew the parent from the other team who was doing the paperwork side of things and she (and one of the kids who gave me a few pointers first) helped me get an adequate grip on what was going to happen.

In short, bedlam.

Well… pressing the score button twice on either side when they got a goal, I could do that pretty well. If one team was called for a foul, yep, no worries. Press the foul button. Only stuffed that up once. But then there’s this thing called ‘can we have a sub, please?’ Not a dirty great boat that floats underwater. Not a blatantly American apparently health food restaurant with rather aggressive advertisement campaigns (my opinion) which nonetheless taste fantastic! No. Asking for a sub means they want a subsitute. They’re gonna grab three of their mates and kick them to the bench and take their place.

And they wanted these ’subs’ every single time I thought I just about had a handle on this score box with all the buttons!! Every single time! I swear to anybody who cares enough to listen that one of the little fellers was doing it deliberately to see me fret!

Anyway… we got through it in the end and the kids won by ten goals with a score line of 13 to 33, and even better, at the very end my score on the board (and the foul count!) matched perfectly her score on the official score sheet! Success!!

When the kids (the two who know me - it’s taking a little while yet for the rest of the team to grow accustomed to this strange bloke who turns up each match to watch even though none of the kids are related to him in anyway whatsoever…) congratulated me on getting through unscathed, I must admit I whispered quietly to them along the lines of ‘thanks, boys, but I’m off to find a stiff drink, eh?’

They understood, bless them!

So on the way home, I had to stop by the local bottle-o cos I had no cans of scotch in the fridge at home any more. And when I got there, I had to buy a slab because buying just one wasn’t economical. So yes, the kids lead me to drink. Well… no. They were just there…

If you’re all decent, well-balanced people out there, I’m sure you’d all agree with me in principle though, eh? Right?

But to be fair, the basketball was the reason for the one scotch I ‘needed’. The one scotch was the excuse for the slab!

Related posts: Coaching Under 12s… the final cricket match of the season.

Technorati tags: basketball, kids sport.

Ever noticed how, whenever there’s a few old fancy clothes and things lying around, it’s usually the boys who can’t help themselves and end up prancing around with some frilly lace thing on their head or twist their ankle falling from Mum’s high heel shoes? When they grow up, it usually ends up being an apron while they’re drinking around the barbecue, and a lamp shade when they’re finished. I suppose not a lot tends to change for boys from childhood to backyard boganhood, eh?

I found myself thinking about this thanks to a picture on another blog recently. This one features this little feller dressed in a stunning little pink ballerina number. Okay, the little tyke’s all of a few years old and has to stretch up to scratch his head, but he’s a little bloke wearing a pink tutu! Yes, his sister dressed him in it and he’s too young to know any different, and besides, it’s all fun and games when you’re that little, but still!

To be honest though, I found the picture rather cute and amusing, and I reckon it’s great! If any male in the country claims to have never worn female clothing in their life then they’re just out and out lying! When you’re a kid you do stuff like that. You totter around the house in Mum’s high heels that she hasn’t worn since Cocky was an egg. Your big sister attacks you with a box of hair clips. You come home from Nan’s place one afternoon to proudly show Dad your newly painted fingernails in the latest pensioner colours. You’re a kid. It’s fun

In fact, it’s typical developmental behaviour. A kid with a healthy upbringing and imagination does stuff like this. According to this American doctor with more credentials than me and letters after his name that probably actually mean something, this is all standard stuff and nothing to be worried about. Dad’s can be embarrassed though, that’s fine. Just take young Jack out into the shed later on and give him another manly lesson in the noble art of burping. That’ll sort out any gender imbalance you may be concerned with.

I remember much the same happening a few years back… but this was with nine year olds…

I don’t know where the dress ups came from, but they appeared one Friday afternoon from the back of some cupboard in the classroom during Free Time. The girls weren’t interested at all. As for the boys though… you’d think it was Christmas. They were prancing around in all sorts of dresses thrown over the top of their uniforms and mincing back and forth on display to anybody who’d look and giggle in little soft shoes and parasol hats. The cheeky little showboats even willingly posed for photographs when I slipped out the camera, complete with super model postures, although somewhat mismatched by their frumpy choice of clothing.

But then one of their mums turned up to take the kid home early.

Fair dinkum, it was the quickest change of outfit I think I’ll ever see a boy make! He was out of those clothes so fast he almost took his own off as well and was back in front of mum in a flash with a slightly flustered look on his face, his bag on his back, and hurrying mum out the door before she had time to inquire as to why everyone was laughing.

Just a pity he’d forgotten the clip on earrings…