Mr Chicky, Governor of RBA

Mr Chicky, Governor of RBA

I forgot it was parent/teacher night until I was dragged kicking and screaming up to the school the other night.

Dawn was gossiping with the other parents and I was standing off to the side, arms folded and trying to be congenial.

First up was Beau’s teachers. He has two as they job share. It seems to work, so it’s a win to those who want a life at home and a job. I was not sure of how it would work, but Beau has had this a few years running now and he is doing really well.

Beau is, I am told, quiet, but growing in confidence and asking questions – suddenly appearing at a teachers side to query them. They note his literacy is excellent, though he’ll never be an accountant.

Next, we move into Chicky’s classroom. He has a male teacher whom he adores. Mr C tells us to sit (was that an order?) and provides us with Chickles books while he leaves the room. I open them up – there are pages with numbers and squiggles under them and some red ticks and positive commentary. There is a page hanging out and a bit dog-eared. Then I turn the page and there is a picture of a dead body at the bottom of the page, actually it’s quite good. Dawn gasps, so I look troubled as well.

Mr Mini Man is a genius with numbers, he may be heading up the Reserve Bank one day, his literacy is also advanced. He is rebelling with dead man pictures. Maybe he is bored I wonder. Finally and quite distressing Mr C tells me, my Chick is quite aloof.

Oh really? Aloof? Mr C – it runs in the family.

I get in the car after the grill and chat to Chick about it. He bows his head to avoid eye contact. It’s like watching a replica of yourself sitting in the back seat. ‘Hey genius, just no more dead people ok? Save it for the Board meeting in a few years’.

INFO: Follow John on Twitter @daddydearest_ •  Facebook: Daddy Dearest

You May Also Like

Comments are closed.