This term I have been travelling home with IJ on the school bus. If she went on her own she would probably come home with a whole new vocabulary, a new boyfriend and some questionable behaviours that she has picked up from the rather excitable teenage boys.
However, after several weeks of bad behaviour (on the part of the children, not me, I am an innocent bystander) the journey has become slightly more civilised. The youngsters from the primary school now like to tell me all about their day and complain about their teachers (and sometimes their parents) and I listen with interest and pretend to be wise, knowledgeable and unshockable at all times (cough).
Yesterday, I suddenly became the centre of some unwanted attention when one 7-year-old girl asked my age.
"Are you 23?" she asked, which was most kind of her. She is now my new best friend.
"Are you 34?" a young boy asked. He is not so nice. I will no longer sit near him.
And before I even had the chance to respond, IJ decided to butt in with the comment,
"My mummy is 100."
Bizarrely, no-one chose to question this. The children seemed satisfied with this new knowledge and no further questions were asked.
What?! I am a picture of youth and vitality!
