To be on the receiving end!

I had another blog post planned for this week, which was even written and ready to be edited by my wonderful mother in law – she checks that my ramble actually makes sense, a tough job for anyone! However, I felt that this blog which is almost an open letter of apology to the parents of every child I have ever taught, was far more important.

It is just coming up to 9pm and I am sitting in my kitchen having manically been baking. I haven’t had any supper, the kitchen is a tip and the packed lunches are not even half made. Why? Because when my husband dropped our children off at nursery today the Big One’s wonderful teacher said, ‘have you seen the letter about Own countries day on Friday (aka tomorrow)?’ As I’m sure you have guessed, we hadn’t, even though I check their bags religiously in fear of this happening. On Friday all children in Big One’s class are to dress in their national dress and to bring a national dish to share.

I have been out of the house all day working on the Honeycomb Hub and though my husband mentioned it to me, it did rather go out of my head with filling, sanding, holding bits of wall etc. That is until my son, lying in bed with droopy eyes said, ‘and I need to wear England clothes and bring food for everyone tomorrow. Like a big lunch to share.’ I gently lent down, kissed his head and sweetly said ‘of course darling, I’ll sort it.’ while internally screaming obscenities.

This is where my apology needs to come in. I have been that creative, inspiring, well-meaning teacher. I, and my fellow teachers, have come up with amazing ideas, projects and class open days where parents would come in and children would share their work. However, this is the first time I have been on the receiving end and I apologise. I apologise for suggesting that children could make a model Stone Henge, a miniature rainforest out of food (What were we thinking????) or to keep a holiday journal. I apologise for every class bear that has been sent home and for every own clothes day, historical character day and world book day I have asked you to participate in. And finally a huge well done to the hundreds of parents who have managed to make all of these things happen - any tips would be gratefully received! And for those of you who didn’t quite make them all happen? That is ok too. I feel your pain but the wonderful thing about children is that they are generally more forgiving of us than we are of ourselves.

Jackson is very keen to see what I am up to and
offering his assistance as chief taster!

Now, if I hadn’t known at all, or had forgotten until drop-off, it would almost have been okay as there was nothing I could do. But I do know. I have been reminded and I need to make something. But first, let me paint the scene for you. We have been living here in Botswana for 2.5 months. We live in a beautiful 4 bedroom house (with a ridiculous 5 toilets?! I figure it is for when the Queen comes, we’re keeping one unused just in case!). However almost all of our worldly possessions are in a container, on a boat, somewhere around the coast of South Africa. The few pieces of furniture and kitchen utensils I have are borrowed from my sister. I am not exactly prepared for baking and dressing up. 

So, National dress? Of England? My mind scrolls through what this actually looks like: suits, page boy outfits, kilts, Queen’s Guards, football shirts, but unfortunately we didn’t think to pack any of these in the 4 suitcases we have been living out of for the past 3 months. Sadly, husband’s rugby shirt is just ridiculously too big but suddenly, jackpot! At the bottom of Big One’s t-shirt pile is a long sleeved grey top with a London bus on. National dress, …. Sort of…. Tick!

National dish? Such a shame that pasta is out, I really cannot claim any form of Italian heritage. Also, I vaguely remember completing a questionnaire about this a couple of weeks ago and believe I mentioned a roast. Not practical for a number of reasons but least of all because my cupboards are rather bare. I also don’t have the tins for something such as a Victoria Sponge. However, we have an egg, some flour, some milk (admittedly soya thanks to Big One’s vegan phase, but I can water it down) and surely that means I can make Yorkshire puddings! The only hindrance here is a lack of measuring jug and the fact that my husband is the cooker of roast dinners in our house. He is currently out and will certainly be in no fit state on his return. However, I do not let that fact hold me back. I am on a roll, Queen of the kitchen especially when I discover an old, and not too rusty, muffin tin at the back of the cupboard! Yorkshire puddings are go. Just to make them seem a little more appealing, I have squeezed some honey into a pot – nothing better than leftover Yorkshires with honey, or golden syrup if you can get it!

Always one to hedge my bets (probably why I have never won, or lost, big at the races) I had better have a back-up plan. Flapjacks! (And by this I mean British flapjacks which I think are known as Oaties in Botswana. Flapjacks are pancakes here!) We always have oats and honey in as my boys are porridge addicts regardless of the weather.  I am not to be hindered by the fact that I have never made flapjacks before, or that I have no recipe books… or golden syrup… google will have an answer and so it did!

1 hour after the panicked phone call to my sister, during which she did kindly offer to make something… once she had stopped laughing at my dilemma, I have 2 national-ish dishes for my son to take in tomorrow. I can walk in nonchalantly, head held high knowing I have seen their challenge, and raised it! I shall not mention the panic this induced or the state of my kitchen and I will ensure to scurry away quickly before anything is tasted.

So to all parents out there, I am truly sorry for ever putting you through this. And to all those parents of the future students I shall undoubtedly teach one day, I am also sorry. As though I have been on the receiving end, I still think it is a great way to get a greater depth of learning from a project and, in this case, a greater understanding of other cultures. But for now, I am going to sit back with a tot of whisky and bathe in my own feeling of glory and accomplishment… before facing the realism of the mess in my kitchen and the important task of putting said national dishes out of the reach of thieving puppies! I may even get round to eating some dinner for myself some time before 10pm, …maybe a Yorkshire pudding or two?!?