If you noticed a gap in my blogs it was for a reason. I was one of four teachers accompanying 43 fourteen and fifteen year-old boys to Classical sites in Italy for 8 days.
We came back a few days ago, but I have found it challenging enough to take my school classes and wash all my dirty clothes. I’ve also spent a fair amount of time staring blankly into the middle distance.
It is only now that I feel half human again.
The pupils, however, were very much themselves after a good night’s sleep.
And that, my friend, is the difference between being fourteen and fifty-three.
Although I did discover another difference – teenagers overwhelmingly have an eerie sixth sense for detecting free wi-fi , even on the beach.
As a parent, I have often helped to pack bags for my own children’s residential trips, but never seen the outcome at the other end.
I can now say with certainty that “less is more”. The less they take, the easier it is to keep track of, particularly when mingled promiscuously with the socks and sun cream of others on the floor of a shared room.
It reminded me of the story of my friend picking up her eleven-year old daughter after her first away trip.
“Mum, I’m afraid I had to put on dirty pants this morning.”
“That’s perfectly alright, love.”
“And I’m pretty sure they’re not my pants either.”