The trials of home-schooling are gradually improving as we are finding our rhythm.  It is starting to feel more natural; my daughter is getting used to doing her schoolwork in the home environment, and I am controlling my perfectionist streak – trying to get everything done, correctly and neatly – within a day of it being issued. Big sighs of relief all round.  I have yielded to the fact that a work report may take me over four hours to write, rather than one, and that everything on the table will end up getting knocked on the floor at least twice per hour. We are the very face of successful learning and professionalism.

I am learning a lot about the Romans. How have I managed to get to this stage in my life and career without intricate knowledge of Romulus and Remus and who killed who in a fit of anger over ‘their’ new city? Spoiler – the clue is in the name. The city of Rome is beautiful. Remu didn’t make the cut.

But it’s the additional bits that I am finding of note at the moment. We have been working on our spelling of various sounds. I say ‘our’, clearly this is aimed at her but it shows how enmeshed I have become in the process. My spelling of year three words is awesome, I should get a gold star.  Today they were drawing a picture of ‘oo man’, using all the oo/ew sounds that they could think of, and to try to spell correctly, to add detail to the character. What fun – ooh, who knew?  (see what I did there?).

My daughter decided to draw an ‘oo girl’ rather than ‘oo man’. I was very proud, a little feminist in the making, a tiny Spice Girls protegee. Then she told me that this was because ‘oo girl’ has boobs and that’s an oo sound. Ok, I think, that’s good thinking. Then she starts to draw ‘oo girl’ and write some oo/ew phrases around her – or so I think. Nope, she has just drawn boobs. With nipples. I’m aware that on tv and film they tend to sensor nipples, they seem to represent something saucier than the fleshy mounds on which they reside. “Er, maybe we shouldn’t be drawing nipples, I have to send this in to school – and perhaps add a body to it”. So off she goes again and comes back with ‘oo girl’ mark two. This one is better and more in line with the brief; a fancy cape, blue shoes, a cow that goes moo that she likes to groom, standing by a swimming pool, sneezing ‘ah-choo’. And a large pair of nipple-less boobs. “Er, there are a few spelling mistakes and I can’t really read that bit. I wonder whether we should have another go at drawing her but this time maybe don’t add the big boobs?”.  We’re on the third depiction of ‘oo girl’ now and she looks pretty good. She has lots of sentences around her, she looks pretty snazzy, and she has a little phrase that says ‘with boobs’. This is fine, it’s the ooh sound, at least she doesn’t look like ‘porno girl’ anymore.  “Ok baby, that’s great, do you want to take a photo and we can upload it for Mr Brown and turn it in”? Off she goes. Job done.

I’m clearing up at the end of the day and recycling the bits of paper that we no longer need. There, in all it’s colourful glory, is ‘oo girl’. Except it seems that when I wasn’t looking she somehow acquired a big pair of boobs. A big pair of boobs that are now sitting in her teacher’s inbox. 

An hour later there’s a ‘ping’ on my phone. It’s from Mr Brown – “Love the pet cow! I’m glad she looks after the cow by grooming it. Amazing job”. 

No mention of the boobs. Phew!