Silent Sunday

The differing sexes

Actually this post is NOT about how different men are from women, but how 7 year old boys behave so completely different from 7 year old girls.

To be more specific, when walking back to school from a field trip, the girls dawdled a bit. But the boys ran riot. They climbed on walls, picked up sticks, rolled around on grassy front lawns, jumped on each other, shouted "you're an idiot" and one boy even manage to put two little sticks into his ears only to have them batted out by another mischievous boy. They did all this, while completely ignoring any of the other poor members of the public that just so happened to be walking along on the same pavement. Absolutely no manners.

And yes, I'm grumbling.

In fact, I'm feeling decidingly grumpy at the moment.

But seriously, I was embarrassed for the teacher of this class.

These louts were unbelievable and cheeky with it too.

Makes me very glad that I am NOT a primary school teacher.

I could rant on about this subject for a while, but I have homework to do, so this is a short one!

Little girls loud

Oh my gosh!!!

On Sunday, I had 4 little girls running around my slightly small flat, screaming with glee and giggling with girlie laughter.

It was fab, well most of it was fab. The residual fallout afterwards was not pleasant. I was left with one very tired, hot little child who decided to disagree with everything.

She refused to help tidy up and why should she, when she had spent so much time creating such a chaotic state, after all this was hard enough work in itself.

No, all she wanted to do was lie, not even sit, on the couch, thumb in her mouth, watching the telly.

Well at least this was a somewhat peaceful activity after the earlier riots.

Bedtime came and went, another day passed and then arrived today, Tuesday.

This time I only had 3 little girls.

But the result was the same.

All three were ravenous, eating as if they'd been starved for months.

But the plus for both days is that the girls disappeared into my child's bedroom, closing the door and not reappearing until it was time to tidy up.

Tidy up time, now that's a different kettle of fish.

And I will leave that for your imagination as I'm sure you've all experienced this onerous task for yourselves.

Is it bedtime yet?

Please?