So 2012 is officially the ‘worst’ summer on record according to some newspapers. Drought for some, monsoon for others. Ruff says his dog has developed webbed feet so you can guess which type of summer we’ve had. Sale of sun cream has plummeted and Deepak hasn’t taken his anorak off for 6 months.
It’s all due to the jet-stream straying too far south, so Mr Gingell explained to us all in Geography. Apparently, we in the South of Britain are getting the sort of weather that Northern Scotland gets most years.
“So where has Northern Scotland’s weather gone, sir?’ Sandra asked.
‘To Spain with a big bottle of factor 30 and a beach ball, if it had any sense,” MrGingell said
‘So, no sport’s day this week then sir?’ asked Deepak, hopefully.
“Not unless they have re-designated pole-vaulting an underwater sport, no.”
“I’d like to go to Scotland, sir,” Tracy said. “Always wanted to see a monster in a loch.”
“Try the boys toilet after Skinner’s been,” Ruff muttered.
“Eeeaargh, that’s disgusting.“ Tracy said.
“Hey,” Ruff replied with his best innocent until proven guilty look, “I’m just as much the victim here as you. Skinner’s the production engineer. But, to be fair to him, he always says to give it five when he comes back from dropping the kids off at the pool.”
“Minutes, you mean?” Deepak asked.
“No, marks out of ten for effort, and usually an 8 for artistic presentation.’
Tracy Roper looked like she was going to be sick.
Mr Gingell had his back to the class, writing something on the board. I though I could see his shoulder moving up and down with laughter though.