End-of-year period. Frantically keying in marks and calculating averages. I realised that not only did I achieve a greater percentage of passes than two of my colleagues, but the mean score of the compo for my fourth grader class also beat that of two other classes. This was achieved in spite of the fact that I am teaching the weakest P4 class.

Then I looked at their results for last year. Wah most of them failed their third grade exam. This means that I actually helped them pass English!

I’m goated.

—-

I had noticed this cafe “No Horse Run” near my school, but being the goated teacher I am, I let my mind be swarmed with thoughts of helping my students (instead of visiting there for a treat). The Universe must have decided that I was working too late because the son suggested that we visit his old student care centre. Thus, “No Horse Run” was literally staring at us in the face. Without hesitation, we plodded inside to have ice cream at the end of a looooooong school week. Tutti fruity for him; rum and raisin for me. The ice cream tasted fabulous, but the Crème de la crème was the crude humour that resonated with me. The door sign “Limpeh (Your father) open from” elicited a chuckle from my mentally spent and emotionally depleted self, as did the toilet sign “pee pee boy”. I foresee spending quality time and hanging out there with the son more often.