But Maybe by Being an A Student Baby.....

At Secondary School, I dreaded Maths. I still have nightmares to this day where I am at University, and have Maths on the timetable, and I manage to studiously avoid attending any Maths' classes for the duration of my time. Willing my dream to make days pass into months and let me escape. I always do, and I always wake up feeling relieved.

I had a Maths' teacher Mr H .

We were in Room 30, a small class which held 24 of us compactly. We were all in easy reach of the chalk duster.

Frequently he would come in to the class, "demonstrate" the day's problem, and then fly into a rage at the end when the tricky algebraic calculations did not resolve the way he was hoping. He would then turn and chuck the duster as hard as he could across the classroom, which would result in us all diving for cover before the fear of the assault with a heavy wooden object became reality.

I had moved into his class from another Maths' class. The teacher was having treatment for cancer and was frequently absent, vague, confused. I complained. The school said "Be sympathetic, they have cancer". I said, "I have to get my exam results", which may have been harsh, but the reality was that they were dying, I was 16 and had the rest of my life ahead of me. So they moved me to the other class.

Mr H freaked me so badly, I dropped Maths. I had no where to go, so I had to attend and sit in a corner for the duration of the lesson. My only saving grace being that he could not ask me questions, or demand that I solved his insolvable problems. I did however still suffer the stress of the random chalk duster throwing.

As you can see from this; lack of mathematical ability does not run in the family. Toolibelle is as smart as a smart thing, and I have no idea what any of this means, but it does make me incredibly proud. And look at her hand writing.... how neat!

Mr H did lose his job eventually, but not for any of the reasons listed above, something else entirely, which made me crumple my nose and go "eh?"