Reading other people's school stories
has made me remember a couple of incidents of my own from my "special" primary school.

The worst of these is one that still pisses me off now when I think about it: we had a very strict lunch policy. Oh yes, they would actually patrol the dining hall to make sure every single kid ate their sandwiches first: not the crisps, not the nuts, not the apple, not the chocolate biscuit, the sandwiches.*

And if you didn't, everyone else would hear about it.

One day, I was (as usual) craving a sweet fix and had a weeny little pot of jelly that I'd just picked up. It was bright red and wobbly and looked delicious. No sooner had I dug my spoon into it than a girl opposite me on the table piped up "ummm... telling on you..."

"Miiiiiiiiiss! Maladicta's eating her jelly before her sandwiches!"
"Now you know that's naughty, Maladicta, and you can come and sit over here and you're not moving until you've eaten your sandwiches."

After a while of this (and not being able to be arsed to eat the damn things, they took up valuable arsing-about-on-the-playground time. So I decided to Stick It To The Man and not have any sandwiches to eat first., thereby voiding their fascist dining system.

This reduced my lunch to a Penguin biscuit and a small bag of crisps, and this regime lasted till I stupidly opened my lunchbox in front of the other kids, who again, told on me. Bastards.

* As far as I'm concerned, as long as you eat the damn food, who the hell cares what order it's in? It's a school dining room FFS, not the Ritz. And it's better than anorexic kids.
( Maladicta, Tue 24 Jul 2007, 19:52, Reply)