I have had my shirt ripped off by the boy who dribbles, which, as you might imagine, was the low point. It was followed by a great high, however, when the girl who loves keys improvised a little song all about her beautiful nephew.
It was all probably my fault...the good and the bad.
It was only afterwards they told me that all the teachers have their watches in their pockets and not visible on their wrists.
I sang a song for the dribbly boy, which he enjoyed, but he was first in the group and didn't want to wait while the others had their turn. This is because his next lesson was with the poneys, and he loves them. He kept trying to stop me playing and pointing at my watch. When I told him to stop he yanked at my hair, a problem which has been developing with him over a period of time. When I told him to stop he then went over to the girl who leaks music and vented his frustration on her by pulling her hair violently.
Everyone else was about two minutes away from the music room, so I had to choose whether to leave him to possibly injure the girl or get him to come with me. No decision really. She cannot defend herself and I suppose my authority would have been lessened if I had left him and got other authority figures to sort out the problem.
So I had to get him to the group centre. But he is 18 and bigger than I am...
We left the room in a strange clinch with him hanging off my wrist pointing at the watch and tearing at my button shirt. It took four people to prise him off me when we got there and he took my shirt with him. Of course it was the one morning I had gone in without a coat because it was so warm! The cook found me an old sweater to cover up with.
In a moment his mood had changed and he was approaching me again asking me to rub his head. Hair tugging is his way to get attention. It works rather well for him...but it must stop.
The next group started banging away on their kool drums after their stories. I sang an improvised thing over my kool drum about keys being lost in my pocket in the dark, and how they cried. The girl who loves keys did something new for her. She played her drum and started making up a song to the same melody. It was all about her beautiful baby nephew and how he has grown and what he eats, in marvellous detail.
On my way out I found a colleague doubled up in pain in the corridor. Will you look at my back? she said. Two students had just crashed into her accidentally while they were racing each other.
She had hit a radiator with such force that she had broken off the knob on the top of it.
MMMmmm, I said. You might be getting a bit of a bruise there...