Children are clever. Adults, it seems, are not so clever.
There is a craze going around school at the moment, whereby children have certain phallic confectionery items hidden about their person, secreted within blazer creases and trouser pockets.
These sweets are not small. They are one of the larger, more desirable items to be found in Ye Olde Steyning Sweet Shoppe, I am sure. They are, what I have come to call, Suckie Lollies.
It is disturbing to watch as one large teenager or another furtively scans the area for watchful eyes, and then bends down to take a lick of his lap-based lolly. He sees me not at first, for I am merely an assistant, but as he catches my eye, I choose to smirk; the sucking of a lolly may not technically be allowed, but it’s not the worst behaviour I’ve seen. The fact that he has the decency to try to be covert about it is admirable.
Once the lesson starts, the Suckie Lollies go away. Ish. But the temptation is too great. The lure of the taste, and the appeal of the kudos. Kids like to show each other just how badass they are, flashing their contraband in lessons. “Look at me!”, they gesture discreetly to the kid next door. “See how daring I am!”
The teacher senses mischief. She pauses her lesson to scan the room. She pinpoints a suspicious-looking youth. He knows the game is up.
The teacher holds out her hand, and purses her lips. She has this sussed, and she isn’t having it.
The boy’s shoulders fall. His head droops. His Suckie Lolly is about to be confiscated. He probably spent £3.50 on that in the extortionate Olde Sweet Shoppe, and is gutted it’s going.
The teacher’s hand remains outstretched. She says nothing, confident that her stare alone is conveying all that must be conveyed: authority, power and the upper hand.
The boy’s hand reaches into his pocket.He passes his clenched fist over reluctantly. It appears that he is defeated, until…
…the teacher takes from him… his bus pass!
That boy deserves an Oscar.
The teacher is fooled. She receives the bus pass, glances at it and in misplaced triumph, says “That’s what you’ve been playing with!” Then, magnanimously adds, “You can have it back at the end of the lesson.”
The boy does an excellent job of not gloating. For that would surely give his lie away.
Every inch of me yearns to thrust my hand up and correct the massive error that the teacher is making! I am desperate to point out what I know, and how I know it. That boy is fibbing! He’s being naughty! Miss! Miss!
But I do not.
Instead, I remain silent. Partly because I am impressed with the sheer fast-thinking displayed by this individual: partly because I don’t want to undermine the teacher and partly because I don’t want to be lynched. Kids are clever. And if this kid can somehow convince an experienced teacher that his bus pass, of all things, is fiddle-worthy, then who am I to get involved?
The Suckie Lolly is safe. The teacher’s self-respect is in order and I have had an interesting insight into the way things work from the back of the classroom. It’s not a place I have frequented much, what with being a boffin first and then a teacher second, but I have to say, when done tastefully, this naughtiness thing is quite cool.
Suckie Lollies aside, there have been behaviour issues that I have witnessed recently that have not been quite so cool. Some kids are not quite so clever in their naughtiness; they’re just naughty. For many complex reasons, I am sure. But still. Naughty.
Which reminds me. I must soon update you on all the latest Boy Seymour sagas. The child is pushing boundaries at the moment.
Let’s put it this way – Mummy won’t be buying him a Suckie Lolly any time soon.
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