This week signals one month since TO’s school started again…online albeit. And it’s been oh so interesting.
I feel for the teachers, I really do. While the children have my sympathies since this is hardly the most optimum way of doing things, the teachers have to manage home and hearth plus keep an eye on the kids, critique their work and pretend their heads are not likely to explode from all the chatter and noise from the classes.
You have your ‘first benchers‘ and ‘back benchers‘ for online classes as well. The former are bright-eyed and bushy-tailed all day long and the latter are a mix who have multiple tabs open for games, surfing the internet, daydreaming or annoying their mothers for food.
There are also kids who spend nearly the entire duration saying “Ma’am ma’am ma’am” followed by one of these litanies or just saying Ma’am because they just seem to like the sound of the word quite a bit:
- my internet isn’t working
- my camera isn’t working
- your audio isn’t working
- I can’t see you
- what are we supposed to do
- I have to go to the bathroom
- where are we supposed to submit the work?
Never underestimate the extent of hunger and sleep a child can experience till they have a class they need to get to or an assignment whose deadline’s passed. Anyhow, that’s all there is about the classes. Then there’s the near constant rain that’s putting a frown on TO’s face. Because that means that he can’t go out and cycle or play cricket.
Last night before going to bed he looked out the window and say that it was STILL raining and would probably rain all night long as well, rendering the cricket pitch a soggy mess for the next day and this ensued- a small enraged human stomping around saying, ” Oh F-word, F-word, F-word, F-word….ughhh F-WORDDDD!!“ Red looked at me with the censure that’s ever-present whenever TO drops an unsanctioned word. I shrugged and said, “at least he self-censored”.
Speaking of F-words and others which aren’t sanctioned in “polite” company, I end up dropping a bushel’s worth whenever I’m in my online fitness class. Fitness and I are age-old enemies. I nurture the flab and life keeps putting me in Fitness’s way for a series of activities which makes me feel like my body is turning into a pretzel and not in a good way.
I’ve noticed something though; every activity that has an animal’s name associated with it, barring the Cobra, makes me feel like the world as we know it, is about to end with me exploding in a burst of guts without the glory. You also get weird thoughts in your head like, “Burpees have nothing to do with burps at all!!“
Be as that may, it’s a good way to get your blood pumping but at the end of everything you wish for a personal masseuse and a sauna with no husband and child around who look at you to provide food, read to them or cuddle while you are a puddle of sweat and bad muscle tone. NAMASTE
