Somewhere inside me I think there must be a frustrated wannabe Primary School teacher itching to get out, as now I have again roped myself into doing more than my fair share of parental assistance at the school. I'm going in tomorrow to read some of my own children's stories to Sadie's class. It'll be great fun and it's nice at last to use them for something, as they will never be published. Sadie will also no doubt love me coming in to do this which will be really cute. But I am a little concerned as writing for kids, I realised years ago, isn't my forte. Put it this way, if you were extremely drunk you could be fooled into thinking my rhymes are a bit like some of the Dr Seuss stories, but they really aren't. Dr Seuss was a genius of words; making simple sentences turn clever. My children's stories are just plain simple. One of the many reasons I love children, is that they are like small pissed people, so Sadie's classmates will no doubt love my stories, despite their simplicity and unoriginality. I might have to edit the bit where the doggy does a poop (it's very high brow). That could get them all a little excited. Oh well here goes nothing. Apart from my writer's pride.
Oh- I have lost my half marathon partner so any offers anyone? Go on- it'll be fun...
I'm off to run in the rain this afternoon so what with this and my volunteering to expose my talentless prose, maybe I have gone mad after all.
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