I Got The Slipper At School
Just read an account of a school slippering for forgetting a book, and it brought back this memory. It was November 1983, I'd only been at secondary school for 2 months, and my mam had just got out of hospital after having her thyroid removed. I remember being distracted by everything, and it was especially cold with a thick frost. As usual, my dad dropped me off at school on his way to work, as we lived 11/2 miles from the lower school.
I'd just got into school and met up with one of my friends who was in my class, when I saw he had his PE kit with him. I'd been so preoccupied before leaving home that I'd totally forgotten to pick it up on the way out! Cue panic!! A few lads had been slippered already for 'forgetting' their kit, and there was a 99% chance my bum would meet that very same fate, and the slimmest chance I could explain what had happened. I didn't want to take the chance so set off home.
We started at 8.50am, I was dropped off at 8.20 and I had probably been there for 5-10 minutes. In effect I had 20 minutes to run 3 miles, because I didn't have time to wait for the next bus back. Not a bad achievement for an 11yr old?
Anyway I set off, arrived back at home sweating like nothing on Earth, ran in and disturbed my mam who was asleep on the settee - so got a bit of a telling off for that and being forgetful. Then I set back off for school. I remember checking my watch as I passed the roundabout, which was 1/2 mile from the school and the time was 8.50 - I was going to be late. Bearing in mind I'd twice been late back after dinner that term and after a full-on telling off the last time from the Head of Year, I knew the next time would mean only one thing! But I had that tiniest hope I could explain my way out of it.
I walked the rest of the way, chewing myself up, feeling a bit sick and generally cursing myself that I'd been so stupid. I couldn't run because my legs were a bit shakey with worry. I got to school and ran through the playground, around the back, and up the stairs into my form room. I was 10 minutes late and registration was over, and everyone was ready to go to the daily assembly. Mrs A, my form teacher, took one look at me and said the dreaded words I didn't want to hear, that I was going to explain to the Head of Year (Mr H) why I was late again, but AFTER assembly.
So I had another 15 minutes of worrying about what was going to happen, and was in a world of my own! I had a horrible feeling she had spoken to him, because they walked in together a few minutes later than everyone else. Finally it was over and Mrs A caught my eye and pointed towards the general direction of the offices. I could feel my face burning and tears starting to form.
Mr H was quite a nice bloke, but could be quite intimidating especially when he raised his voice. He just had a presence about him. He started about punctuality and whatnot, and I tried to explain what had happened, because I knew he was aware of the circumstances at home - I had sat and cried the day before my mam had the operation, and he had been brilliant with me. Unfortunately, he wasn't prepared to listen to my excuses, which to be fair looking at it through adult eyes is all they were - I'd not been prepared enough for the day! My mistake was talking back and saying it wasn't fair, but I was really more annoyed at myself, which got me a very short and sharp retort to be quiet, as he got that dreaded black plimsole out of his top drawer. Because of my mini tantrum, I'd also earned myself two extra strokes.
He nodded towards a chair at the right side of his desk and uttered the immortal words heard by so many children over the years "bend over, hands on the seat". Tears were already running down my face by this stage, as I'd been slippered at junior school several times and knew this was not going to be pleasant. The tears just got heavier as that plimsole stung my backside at full force six times, knocking me forward with each one. After he was finished I stood rubbing my burning backside with tears dripping off my chin, feeling very hard done by and sorry for myself!
Needless to say I was never late again!
I'd just got into school and met up with one of my friends who was in my class, when I saw he had his PE kit with him. I'd been so preoccupied before leaving home that I'd totally forgotten to pick it up on the way out! Cue panic!! A few lads had been slippered already for 'forgetting' their kit, and there was a 99% chance my bum would meet that very same fate, and the slimmest chance I could explain what had happened. I didn't want to take the chance so set off home.
We started at 8.50am, I was dropped off at 8.20 and I had probably been there for 5-10 minutes. In effect I had 20 minutes to run 3 miles, because I didn't have time to wait for the next bus back. Not a bad achievement for an 11yr old?
Anyway I set off, arrived back at home sweating like nothing on Earth, ran in and disturbed my mam who was asleep on the settee - so got a bit of a telling off for that and being forgetful. Then I set back off for school. I remember checking my watch as I passed the roundabout, which was 1/2 mile from the school and the time was 8.50 - I was going to be late. Bearing in mind I'd twice been late back after dinner that term and after a full-on telling off the last time from the Head of Year, I knew the next time would mean only one thing! But I had that tiniest hope I could explain my way out of it.
I walked the rest of the way, chewing myself up, feeling a bit sick and generally cursing myself that I'd been so stupid. I couldn't run because my legs were a bit shakey with worry. I got to school and ran through the playground, around the back, and up the stairs into my form room. I was 10 minutes late and registration was over, and everyone was ready to go to the daily assembly. Mrs A, my form teacher, took one look at me and said the dreaded words I didn't want to hear, that I was going to explain to the Head of Year (Mr H) why I was late again, but AFTER assembly.
So I had another 15 minutes of worrying about what was going to happen, and was in a world of my own! I had a horrible feeling she had spoken to him, because they walked in together a few minutes later than everyone else. Finally it was over and Mrs A caught my eye and pointed towards the general direction of the offices. I could feel my face burning and tears starting to form.
Mr H was quite a nice bloke, but could be quite intimidating especially when he raised his voice. He just had a presence about him. He started about punctuality and whatnot, and I tried to explain what had happened, because I knew he was aware of the circumstances at home - I had sat and cried the day before my mam had the operation, and he had been brilliant with me. Unfortunately, he wasn't prepared to listen to my excuses, which to be fair looking at it through adult eyes is all they were - I'd not been prepared enough for the day! My mistake was talking back and saying it wasn't fair, but I was really more annoyed at myself, which got me a very short and sharp retort to be quiet, as he got that dreaded black plimsole out of his top drawer. Because of my mini tantrum, I'd also earned myself two extra strokes.
He nodded towards a chair at the right side of his desk and uttered the immortal words heard by so many children over the years "bend over, hands on the seat". Tears were already running down my face by this stage, as I'd been slippered at junior school several times and knew this was not going to be pleasant. The tears just got heavier as that plimsole stung my backside at full force six times, knocking me forward with each one. After he was finished I stood rubbing my burning backside with tears dripping off my chin, feeling very hard done by and sorry for myself!
Needless to say I was never late again!
