It was a normal-ish day at school until the blue ice dropped from the sky. Like the Michael Caine film of the same name, this suggests an unexpected event such as the frozen flushings of an aircraft lavatory landing on you. Of course, planes do not routinely jettison their bilges, they have them hoovered out at the airport. It's trains that say please do not flush in a station.
I may not run marathons or Scout cross-country races but I certainly run about in breaktime. It's the usual story, Child A chases Child B, then vice versa. But this time I tripped over a discarded school jumper and twisted my ankle. Child B laughed at me which makes him more of a C.
Jof was summoned and had to leave work and she took me home and administered the magic Calpol and before long I was bouncing around again, not just because it was Lego building in the afternoon. So I got a free lift back, and a free lift home again, to give my injured limb a rest. Ironically, the only lesson I missed was PE, which I wouldn't have been able to do anyway. So here is an unrelated picture from Scouts a couple of days ago where we bandaged ourselves up and claimed horrific injuries.