Sidey’s Weekend Theme is “Education”…
Ever since the dawn of time one of the things that Mums and Dads have dreaded most has been the Parent Teacher Meeting.
The Mum and Dad of our tale sat nervously in front of a young woman who looked every bit a teacher, pretty, nicely dressed, a bun in her hair.
Sorry, a bone in her hair:
This was, as I’ve said, the dawn of time and Miss Huhnee was the teacher of their son Ugg.
She opened his file. “Well, Ugg has done very well this term. He got very high scores in a lot of subjects. He got an A in History, for example.”
“Ah, he takes after me,” said Mum. “I got an A too, back in the day.”
“Yes, and remember that was twenty years ago,” said Miss Huhnee. “There’s nearly twice as much history now as there was then.”
“That’s true,” said Mum, impressed.
“And he’s learned all the Geography.”
” ‘Woods to the north, volcano east, best avoid west, it’s the home of the beast’,” said Mum. “I still remember the class.”
“In practical work he has done very well too,”said Miss Huhnee. “For example, he has learned how to start a fire, though admittedly that’s not what he was trying to do at the time. And he’s done very well in stonework, as you can see from these pieces. This is a spear-head, this is an axe-head, and this, well, he calls it a statue of the Buddha.”
Mum and Dad stared at her.
“Don’t ask me,” said Miss Huhnee. “Anyway, these are his drawings from art class.”
Mum and Dad looked at the pictures. They showed a lot of stick-men chasing a fierce looking animal.
“It shows an optimistic personality,” said Miss Huhnee. “The more pessimistic children show the chase the other way around.”
Dad, who was from the old school (it had been just around the corner, until a mammoth had trodden on it) had had enough.
“Look, I don’t hold with all this fancy stuff,” he said. “Art, history, and so on.”
“Well, we do believe here in trying to produce a more rounded individual,” said Miss Huhnee.
“Well, I do believe,” said Dad, “that when you’re being chased by a sabre-tooth tiger, the rounder individuals tend to be the slowest runners. All he needs for an education is the three Rs – reading, rock-throwing and ‘romatics.”
“Aromas. Learning how to smell a wild boar approaching, so that you can get ready for the rock-throwing and the running. He doesn’t need all this fancy stuff. I suppose next you’ll be telling me that he’s taking cookery classes.”
“Well, as a matter of fact, we are teaching them -”
“- how to roast animals over an open fire,” broke in Mum, seeing the look forming on Dad’s face.
“Ah, barbecuing,” said Dad. “Now that is man’s work.”
“So,” said Miss Huhnee, “all in all he’s had a very good year. In fact, I think he could go all the way.”
“What, you mean Second Class?” gasped Mum. Miss Huhnee nodded.
“Hear that, Dad,” said Mum. “Our little boy’s an intellectual.” Dad snorted.
There is just one matter I’d like to bring up. It’s about Ogga, the little girl he sits beside.”
“Oh no,what’s he been doing,” said Mum fearfully.
“Well, last week he hit over over the head with a club and dragged her home by the hair.”
She had expected a horrified response, but to her surprise Dad looked both happy and proud. “Now that’s my boy,” he said.
Miss Huhnee stared at Mum, who just blushed and smiled coyly.
“That’s how his father wooed me,” she said.