Boys will be boys...

It was one of those rare moments during an epic staff meeting where I was not idly singing rude songs in my head, nor thinking up inappropriate anagrammatical names for my work colleagues. In fact, I was not even doodling abstract representations of my own psyche in the margin of my pad. I was actually listening. I don't know how that came about, what breach had occurred in my usually very secure sanity-protection wall, but droning words from the oh-so-disapproving mouth of my Chinese-version Hyacinth Bucket Gruppenführer were somehow managing to embed themselves in my consciousness.

Normally this would be a case for immediate use of my hidden cyanide capsule but, luckily, one small gem of a freudian slip allowed me to rest easy...

"...watch out for the boys behaviour in class when teachers are not around, things like pushing, shoving, frisbee, playing with their balls..."

I caught the eye of one colleague and we telepathically rolled on the floor in hysterics... I'd like to think that the muted reaction of the others indicates a more developed laugh-stifling technique, but they probably just aren't as dirty-minded as me.

It goes to show what a dull, dull life I am currently leading when you find me fervently praying that those last four words make the minutes!

Cheers m'dears!