Yesterday was Ms Fab's fortieth birthday. She was spoilt rotten by everyone and has hopefully realised it was not the terrible event she's been dreading for the past year. Never one to do things by halves, she has celebrations and holidays planned to take her through the first six weeks of her forties.
It's tradition at work that those with a birthday have to provide cakes for the staff room, but Ms Fab did things a little differently and brought in sweets and ice lollies that took her back to her childhood. Caramacs, Curly Wurlys and Refreshers were shared round, and the freezer was full of strawberry Mini-milks, Feasts and Fabs (of course). Needless to say, break-time went on for far longer than it should, not that the children complained.
Next month, Ms Fab and I are going climbing. We decided this after taking the Brownies to a rather wonderful outward bound centre a couple of weeks ago. We helped to supervise the older girls on a climbing wall that went up a fire tower and, despite our mutual loathing of exercise, discovered that we both wanted a go. A local sports centre has a good indoor climbing wall, so we're going for a two-hour instruction session, after which we will probably give up and try something less strenuous. The Daughter has friends who are climbers, and I have been told that I will probably not be able to move my hands the following day, which should make for interesting writing on the classroom whiteboard. Ms Fab and I have roped in (unintended pun, sorry) our friend and part-time fellow TA, Mrs GSOH (and the 'G' here stands for 'great', 'gigantic', or even 'glorious' rather than just 'good'), so the three of us will probably be involved in the resignation of some poor, young climbing instructor.
I'll let you know how we get on, if I'm still able to type.
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