Prefect end to the year

Last day of Term 4.
Therefore the last day of the 2022 school year.
The ceremonial switching off of the 6am alarm on the phone.
Prizegiving, and a goodbye to the headteacher of 19 years.
Some great results, and that prefect announcement.
Celebrating with a family meal out tonight (while our home sits in darkness).
And why not, given that there’s lots to celebrate and there’s the 2000-2230 slot for the next couple of evenings, and then an “are you actually f_____g kidding me” 1800-2230 on Sunday?

At least we won’t be able to watch Carte Blanche.

Sadness in her eyes

It’s coming to the end of another school year, and it was the annual prizegiving ceremony for my daughter today. At this age, everyone gets a certificate and a round of applause – a celebration of their varying levels of various achievements. Only once they get older does the Hunger Games style competition kick in with the select few being picked out for individual honours. For the moment, everyone survives. Mostly.

While it’s a happy time, with the kids already sensing the demob happy chaos of their final week, it’s also sad as the ties between kids and their teachers have to be broken as the students move onward and upward. For many reasons, Scoop and her teacher this year have had a particularly close bond, and there were a few tears as Scoop was selected to present some flowers to Mrs M.

It’s not like they won’t see each other again (for starters, they’ve got another 7 school days together): their respective classrooms are virtually next door to one another next year. But it just won’t be the same.

We owe Mrs M a lot. She’s set the foundation for Scoop’s entire academic future. And it looks rosy.
No pun intended.