Okay. I’ll try.
Z the Matriarch
I had lunch at school today, liver and bacon casserole, which is served on a Thursday by special request of the Head. His wife won’t cook it for him, and the Sage wouldn’t thank me if I cooked it for him, so if I’m in on Thursday that is what I choose, with mixed vegetables, cabbage and mashed potatoes. Very traditional, as was the rest of the menu. Vegetable lasagne, shepherd’s pie, quiche, as well as the usual pizza, baked potatoes and so on, and there’s always salad too. All home made, of course. Pudding was a fruit crumble with custard, there was fresh fruit salad, buns and flapjacks, that sort of thing. Yes, we follow the nutritional guidelines although, as an academy, we’re not obliged to. But actually, we’re quite keen on our children eating good food.
On the way to the dining hall, I was stopped by a group of girls. One asked if I thought the world was about to end. “Don’t suppose so,” I replied, “Are you thinking of the Mayan prophecy?” They were, though they were more interested than concerned. We talked about what could happen – whether the earth would flood – rather interestingly, one of them reckoned that if the flood water entered the volcanoes, the world would explode altogether, though another thought it was just mankind that would succumb, with or without the rest of the animal kingdom.* Maybe we’d all be worms in a swamp and evolution would start all over again. One girl thought there would be a few of us left. “We’d all have to breed,” she said. I offered to leave that to them. I’d mother them and cook their meals.
After lunch, I chatted to a member of staff in the cloakroom as we washed our hands and we talked about a teacher who had a baby on Monday (his name is Jonty). We also talked about broodiness, and I said I kept it at bay with the arrival of grandchildren. I mentioned that I have five of them and her eyes widened. It made me feel old. Not that I’ve a problem with being old, but I forget about it sometimes
*insert gender-based options as required