Monday 2 June 2014

136. Back To School

19th May 2014, Strängnäs, Sweden

I never was the biggest fan of school.

Fact is, I still am not. Entering any sort of school building automatically will make me want to loudly protest everything from butter vs. margarine in the school cafeteria to the very existence of the teacher who informed the class that the girls needed not pay attentions as they didn't have any use knowing chemistry in their future roles as housewives.
 
Unfortunately for me I have beautiful little nieces that are not babies anymore - even if I try to tell myself that they still are - they are big school girls now. School girls who really, really wants their auntie to come visit them in school.

So back to school it was, starting with my eldest niece and wood shop. I tried highlighting beforehand that it may not be the safest subject to have me attend, but my objections were shot down at a very early stage. Problem is, when I last had wood shop on my school schedule, I successfully caused an electric black out to the entire school. My classmates may have thanked me but the teachers and the janitor did not.

My niece decided to be safe rather than sorry and gave me the lovely task of washing the paint brushes so that she could proceed to paint her wooden tulips. I didn't even get to help paint the damn things. Should clearly not have shared my black out story before class.

At the end of the class I was trusted with real responsibility. I got to measure the tulip stems out with a ruler and a pen. Although when it came to actually sawing the pieces apparently a 10 year old was a safer bet than me.

That was school day 1 over and done with.

On school day 2, it was off to the youngest niece's school and story hour. And I'm sorry, I don't know why these kids weren't focusing? Story hour was awesome. The guy, in the book, basically was this nutty teacher character with a honking horn for a nose who knew exactly how many ants live in an ant hill. And in spite of this guys' amazingness, it was like the kids just didn't care about what would happen next. I blame television.

Overall, this whole school think isn't quite as bad as I recall. I even got some fruit to snack on during story hour and one of the kids told me I don't look old enough to be someone's aunt. So many wins in two days.

Turns out that 10 years following my graduation, I may just have matured into the idea of going to school.

Busy girl in wood shop!

Post story hour cake in the sun!

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