More Starting School

As my Facebook and Twitter timelines are currently swamped with people posting about their kids starting school, I am throwing in a post of my own on the subject.

I’ve already written about my own times starting school (here). I don’t really remember any of my siblings’ first days, though. Which is unusual, as I remember a thing or two about them all.

Karen’s first day would have been whilst we were living in Scotland and although I don’t remember the specific day I do recall that for some time after I would make a point of looking into her playground (which was on a level below my classroom) to see if I could see her. Not that I would’ve been seen dead talking to her. She was (a) younger and (b) a girl and it was bad enough that we arrived and left together!

Lisa and Kevin were educated at completely different schools to Karen and me. I think I know the reason for this, but it is so odd that I’m not going to repeat it in case it is wrong. I would have been at school myself on the day that each of them started, so it is not surprising that I don’t remember anything about the events. What I do vividly recall, though, is a conversation I had with Lisa after her first couple of days.

At that time I got home from school after all three of my siblings. The usual routine was that I would cycle up the side of the house, put my bike in the garage and then come in via the back door, which led into the kitchen. That day I was met by Mum at the door, who said to me “Lisa has something to tell you. I’ve told her you’ll probably agree with her”.

Puzzled, I went and found my littlest sister, who was sat against the radiator by the end wall of the long, narrow kitchen. She said to me “I’m not going back to school. I’ve learned everything I need to”. I know that I chuckled and told her that I felt like that every day, but that unfortunately that wasn’t how things were and she needed to go back again just in case there was something they had forgotten to tell her. Which, fortunately, she did.

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About Richard

Just your less-than-average married father of one
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