A sixteen-year-old recently called me ‘seriously old’, so I must be. It’s a great feeling. I have the right to act like somebody’s parent and the children at school are not my peers.
My sister is a few days short of a quarter of a century, although a quarter isn’t really very much these days. It means I cannot pretend she is still a child. I liked having a little sister who I had to pretend to be old and responsible around (for some of the time). Now I’m getting more creative and she’s acting like an adult. When we were in Israel six years ago someone asked if we were twins. I think I tell that story a lot more than she does.
My little brother is going to be a daddy. These things remind me of my age too.
My form group are hormonal. Several are already teenagers. They were not as sweet and lovely in Mass today as they had been a year ago. It seems it is ok to talk while the priest is celebrating, as long as it is to tell others not to be disrespectful.
In teaching it is rewarding when children come to you for advice, treat you with respect and give you their attention. A lot has to be earned, but age certainly helps.
jam and giraffes 