Tag Archives: school

2197. The treehouse

It wasn’t much fun being the only boy in a family with seven girls. For starters, the house had only one bathroom. You’d think after twelve years that Chad would be used to it. He wasn’t.

Chad decided to build himself a treehouse in an old sycamore at the back of the property. That way he could escape with his friends and have his own space.

What a magnificent treehouse it was! It could be accessed only by climbing a rope. That was something some of his sisters wouldn’t be seen dead doing.

One day he came home with two of his friends from school and there was a ladder propped up against the tree. Inside the treehouse was a pink plastic tea set.

Even though Chad had been taught at school that there was no difference these days between girls and boys, the treehouse trapdoor soon had a padlock on it

2165. Teacher’s admonition

Madam, your little boy is a total prick. He pulls the plaits of little girls and thinks it funny. He answers me back. He pokes out his tongue. All in all he’s a spoilt brat. If they hadn’t banned it I’d give him a good whipping just to knock him into shape.

Just the other day I saw him cheat by copying another little boy’s arithmetic homework. He should have done the work at home. That’s why it’s called “Homework”. Mind you, knowing your background I’d imagine there wouldn’t be much of a home life. I can see why you can’t get anyone to help him as he’s such an ill-disciplined rude boy.

Some people are helpless parents – that’s if you are the parent – he doesn’t look much like you – and as far as helpless parents go you’ve got as much parenting skills as a headless aardvark. Tidy up your act, Madam. Instil some discipline into the little shit.

I’d kick him out of my class if he wasn’t the heir to the throne.

2126. Story writing

Arnie’s teacher set the class a creative writing assignment: Write a four page story about writing a story. Here is Arnie’s effort:

Jack wrote a story about writing a story. It started like this:

Jack wrote a story about writing a story. It started like this:

Jack wrote a story about writing a story. It started like this:

Jack wrote a story about writing a story. It started like this:

Jack wrote a story about writing a story. It started like this:

Jack wrote a story about writing a story. It started like this:

Jack wrote a story about writing a story. It started like this:

Jack wrote a story about writing a story. It started like this:

Jack wrote a story about writing a story. It started like this:

(This went on for four pages. The teacher was unimpressed. In the long run it didn’t matter because Arnie was expelled from school for not having his main character wear a mask).

2072. Strum strum

Ronald was a school teacher. He taught little kids (I won’t give the Year because it differs from country to country). He occasionally played the guitar while the kids sang Michael Row Your Boat Ashore and stuff like that. The kids were small enough to pretend to row boats in the classroom and jump up and down like waves and dive about like dolphins.

Ronald liked to play the guitar to relax. When he came home from a long day at school he would sit at the back of his garden and strum away. He wasn’t God’s gift to the musical world, but he was good enough.

The school lacked a music teacher and no other teacher was particularly musically inclined. Could perhaps Ronald spend time going from classroom to classroom to teach the music element of the curriculum? He did that, at first enthusiastically, and then it became a little humdrum like any other job. He also volunteered to be the musical director of the annual production and he took the choir through its paces.

When he went home after a busy day at school, Ronald never went to the back of his garden to play the guitar. The guitar was a job. He had lost all interest in playing it.

2063. Helping Mummy

Good morning kiddies. Welcome to today’s long-distance learning lesson. We are going to learn how to help Mummy in the kitchen, so later when Mummy gets out of bed, she will get a big shock.

If you are too small to reach the kitchen sink then perhaps you could get a chair from the dining table and stand on it at the sink.

Fill the sink with water. I hope you know how to stop the water from running out of the sink. Excellent!

 Now we are going to learn to wash the toaster. Toasters are full of crumbs and are yucky. Put the toaster in the water. Give it a good scrub with the brush. Don’t forget to put some detergent in the water. When it’s as clean as you can get it there will still be some dirty marks on the toaster but don’t worry about them.

Next children we must learn to dry the toaster. Find an electric outlet, it doesn’t have to be in the kitchen, and plug it in. Don’t forget to switch it on.

1951. Daylight saving

Delores hated having to change all the clocks in the house just because the government had decided to tamper with the time. Summer time, daylight-saving – call it what you will… Surely most adults were old enough to decide for themselves if they wanted to do things earlier or later. Meddling with the time was a scheme invented by lazy politicians who liked to sleep-in in the mornings.

The change always came on a Sunday. Sunday was a day for relaxing and Delores, with the change of time, managed to feel tired all day. Monday tomorrow would be different. By then the body had almost got used to eating at the wrong time.

The first thing to do on Monday was to get the kids ready for school. They were grouchy because everything was earlier. Hurry, children! Hurry! At last, they were installed in the car and on their way.

They arrived near the school. This change of time was so confusing. For some reason she was an hour too early. They waited in the car. Children will argue! At last they could be released. It was then that Delores realized she hadn’t changed the clock in the car.

1710. God is watching

(The plot of this story is not my own. I don’t know if it’s an old story or an already well-known story, but I’d never heard it before and I enjoyed it! Hence, here it is!)

It was lunchtime at the school run by the nuns. Sister Mary supervised. She placed a sign at one end of the table on top of a big basket of apples. It read: TAKE ONLY ONE APPLE. GOD IS WATCHING.

At the other end of the table was a large bowl of chocolate chip cookies. Some kid had put a sign on it: TAKE AS MANY AS YOU LIKE. GOD IS WATCHING THE APPLES.

1696. Bumping into people

Gary was the biggest bully this side of the Berlin Wall. Or he would have been if the Berlin Wall was still standing.

If some kid was walking along at school and eating something, like a bun or a piece of cake, Gary would accidentally bump into them so that the thing the kid was holding in his hand dropped onto the ground.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the victim would say.

“I’m sorry too,” Gary would say. “Real sorry.” And he would accidentally step on the dropped food and squashed it into the ground.

All the kids were scared of him.

One day, it was not at school but on the street, Gary bumped into a kid from school who was eating an ice cream. The ice cream fell to the ground. The kid from school had had enough. He bashed Gary up good and proper.

“We should learn not to be violent,” the principal said on Monday morning. The kid got “ten hours of community service”. Gary continues to bump into people. He’s such a friendly chap.

1690. Lovely little old lady

Bernice was a lovely little old lady who drove around in a beat-up old car and lived in a cosy bungalow with a cottage garden and a sausage dog. She was always pleasant – some would say delightful – and hence would be invited to gatherings here and there whenever a celebration was called for. For example, the local school always invited her to their Christmas party (not that they called it a Christmas party) simply because she was delightful company.

Bernice had a saying if anyone asked her age: “Quite frankly, I can’t afford to die.” It was true that the cost of dying had rocketed into the stratosphere in recent years. There was the coffin and the funeral and the hearse and the flowers and the… Would it never end?

Well, afford it or not, Bernice passed away. Her will requested a simple funeral, the sausage dog got looked after, and the school got to build a new gymnasium.

1652. Well there ya go

(Thanks to GP Cox of Pacific Paratrooper for giving the opening sentence, and apologies in advance for turning out a horrid story.)

“Well there ya go, it happened again.”

It was the saddest thing; Ollie Hope was teased at school. It was closer to persecution. Others viewed him with distain. He was a bit thick, a bit slow, a couple of nuts short of a fruit cake. All that the other students would ever say to Ollie was “Look what the cat brought in.” To which Ollie always replied, “Well there ya go, it happened again.”

It was like pressing a button.

“Look what the cat brought in.”

“Well there ya go, it happened again.”

“Look what the cat brought in.”

“Well there ya go, it happened again.”

The truth was, Ollie wasn’t stupid, but he didn’t know how he was meant to respond to such a silly statement, especially since it happened all the time and was clearly meant as a torment. His reply had simply started out as a sensible response to “Look what the cat brought in” several times in a row. “Well there ya go, it happened again.”

Poor Ollie didn’t make too many friends. He was a bit of a loner, but not from choice. When he hanged himself in his parent’s garage it was the third school suicide within as many months.

As one teacher observed: “Well there ya go, it happened again.”

And everybody laughed.