We went to an Auction of Promises at Afie and Bashi’s school last weekend. Fred’s eye was caught by the lot ‘Principal for the Day.’ He decided to go up to £250 for this. The bidding went past that and he gave up. It was already up to £350. I could see he was a bit gutted. Then, lo and behold, the person who had bid three fifty pulled out, as did the person bidding £300. It was all collapsing like a house of cards. ‘Who bid two fifty?’ asked the auctioneer. Fred held up his number. ‘Going, going, gone!’
Wowzer, wowzer, Fred is headmaster for the day!!! Whoop whoop. What fun. He thinks it’s fate. He was suddenly swamped. Mates of Alfie’s coming up to ask if he could let them off school for that day. Lovely flirty (and probably drunk) ladies asking him if he’s going to introduce The Slipper for errant parents!? Mates of Bash wanting a ‘shout-out’ (whatever that is), or asking if he could decree that everyone must wear a ‘onesie’ that day, whatever that is. (oh, alright, I do know really, it’s a kind of big fleecy babygro.) He will probably ban French, German, Spanish and Japanese in favour of computer languages, Java, SQL, Scala and the like.
Oh, Fred says he wants to see how the school works, not just have a laugh. Ha ha, not possible, Fred! Too many people want to have a giggle on the back of it. I think he should take the parrots in with him and we should teach them a few things to say in advance. Like, ‘Detention!” or ‘We don’t need no Education.’
I suspect that on Fred’s Big Day, juggling will figure prominently, as will hacky sac, that game where you kick a beanbag around without letting it hit the floor. He says he is going to preach ‘Stillness of the Mind.’ He might tell them in assembly how for a couple of years he never went to school. He learnt most of what he knows from Open University programmes on the telly. He only eventually went back because the school threatened to fine his parents. Fred’s mum only found out Fred had got into Oxford when she went down town and bumped into one of her mates who’d seen it in the paper. Fred had not thought to explain to her what it meant. I’m not sure Fred knew what it meant. (Oh, Fred says he’s sure he didn’t know what it meant!)
Must just let you in on how Fred’s dad met Fred’s mum. It was the beginning of November 1965. (Oh, wow btdubs, this means I was halfway through being a foetus in my mum’s tummy. Yeah, I know, it’s always all about me.) Alf was the best man at his mate’s wedding. Rene was chief bridesmaid. They got tipsy and ended up spending the night together. From Saturday to Wednesday they spent every minute together, whispering sweet nothings, I imagine. On that fourth day they agreed that it felt like they had known each other for years. Alf borrowed five quid off Rene’s mum, bought a ring and proposed. He made Rene promise to write to him, as he had to return to his army barracks in Germany the next day. They exchanged letters until February, then Rene’s letters stopped. Alf kept on writing. Rene did not reply. Alf was in despair. He wrote her a letter saying ‘Look, I don’t care what the problem is. Even if you’re pregnant, or whatever, just please write to me.’
She did. She told him she was pregnant and that her parents had convinced her that Alf wouldn’t want to be bothered. He replied, ‘Well, they’re wrong.’ He told her to get things ready for a few weeks time when he would have leave, and he would come back and they would get married. Rene did nothing simply because she did not believe him. He turned up at her house as he had said he would, but she was out at work. Nothing had been prepared. Alf did not give up. He marched in to her place of work and whisked her out of there. He organised everything in two days flat including the special licence, and they were married just like that. Rene accompanied him back to Germany and they lived in a hotel for a couple of months until they were granted married quarters. On August 3rd, Fred was born in the British Military Hospital, Rinteln.
Isn’t that just such an unlikely romantic tale? Well done, Grandalf, for believing in love and for going on to have Ray and Gwen and all those lovely grandchildren.
At the auction we were sitting next to Luke’s parents, and Sammy Wammy’s mum. They reminded us of how Alfie’s mates used to come over for Chloe’s tutorials in: ‘How to Pleasure a Woman.’ I would come home and find up to ten boys sitting on the kitchen benches, wide-eyed, catatonic in shock as Chloe relentlessly, nay graphically, expounded upon her theme.
Still whenever Chloe is home, Alfie turns up from school with maybe fifteen or eighteen lads, all hopeful that the legendary tutorials will take place. When I say that it’s possible she’s blowing their minds, (I mean, look at them, they’re out of their faces on information!) she says ‘Mum, men really need to know this stuff. The more men in the world who know it, the better.’
There you go. Education organically arising due to local need. Chloe should start charging for her sessions: she could make a packet. Some poor person at the auction paid £270 for a song-writing session with her! Lolzer. Let’s hope he or she gets a major hit out of it! Ooh, that would make a good story.
Oh, yes, talking of stories, both Hockerill College and The Bishops Stortford College have opened their short-story competitions. I love these. The first you’re allowed 1200 words for (that’s like three pages) and the second only 500 words (that’s a little bit over a page.) The Hockerill one is a ghost story and the College one has to include the text ‘Anyone could make that mistake once. But then he did it again.’ So far I’ve gone on to say ‘So I decided it was time to punish him. I started taking his sperm with increasing regularity.’ Hahaha. Love it. Whatever is she going to do with the sperm…..? (Hooray, it appears that I’ve finally moved on from Milk/Breast obsession to Sperm/Bollock obsession.) Anyway, that’s for another day. All will be revealed. But for now, busy busy busy! Bye folks.
Ps. Fred having no job means he is freed up for really important seasonal things: (the one on the left is an alley cat just in case you were wondering.)