My baby’s all grown up. Sad faces all round…though I am relieved he survived my cooking.
This was him seven years ago:
This was him two weeks ago:
That uniform really lasted!
The school gave them a good send off: Leavers’ Day started with a Full English Breakfast; followed by a huge dragon bouncy castle with tunnel and slide. As the Hub said, they filled them up then emptied them again…
Lots of fun activities ensued including a barbecue and the handing out of Most Likely To… certificates (decided by each student’s friends). Spud was found Most Likely To Run The Grand National, because his nickname is ‘Stallion’. I daren’t ask for details. Finally, they let off the traditional balloons in the school colours.
They were given leavers’ hoodies:
They received Year Books; but they didn’t write in them. The tradition is for each child to buy a hard notebook and pass it around; teachers and friends write pages and pages of memories, good and bad. It’s a lovely tradition. Spud read the clean ones out to us. I may have sobbed a little.
In the evening, they attended a Leavers’ Ball. Five of Spud’s friends came here for pre-ball drinks and post-ball sleep. What a funny world it is: hundreds of screaming teenagers on a bouncy castle in the morning and hundreds of screaming drunk teenagers bouncing on the dance floor in the evening.
They boys passed their school on the way there and back to the ball. Both times, they spontaneously burst into the first two lines of the school psalm (no one ever remembers the third-plus lines). ‘How middle class are we?’ asked Spud’s friend; before coming back to sleep on the floor of our council house and be fed a breakfast of homemade pancakes – some burned, some not; it’s the luck of the draw.
Spud has had seven happy years at a wonderful school. He has been given a first class education at their expense. He has great relationships with friends and teachers and many great memories.
It’s all downhill from here.
Happy future, darling.