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Monday, 27 February 2017

In which I appear to have wandered into the life of another...

On my first day at Stopsley Infants School, I was delivered, under protest, by Aged P, who wasn't aged then, but was a mini skirt wearing yummy mummy.

I barely tolerated the day, hid the ghastly luncheon of salad under the enormous knife and fork (if you didn't consume every morsel, you were left alone with the food in the school hall until you had) drank the Luke warm milk and soaked up the atmosphere, imagining the day was a one off.

The following day, being taken there again, under extreme protest this time, I sat firmly on the floor in the classroom and steadfastly refused to budge.  Mother was escorted out and the Headmistress, who I told to 'bugger off' bundled me into the hall, held me in place on a chair with one hand and conducted the choir with the other.

This adverse reaction to authority and repetition has dogged me my entire life.

Today has been another such experience that is required to be repeated, ad infinitum, until such time as I either retire/drop dead/win the lottery.

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