Читать книгу More Blood, More Sweat and Another Cup of Tea - Tom Reynolds - Страница 24

Way back in my past I trained to be a teacher (of small to medium-sized children). Rather thankfully I’ve managed to block out much of the trauma from those days. My poor memory does have some positive sides.

However, I’ve just done a job in a primary school, and all those memories came flooding back.

To be honest I think it was the smell that did it. Smell is strongly tied to memory, which is why certain odours can transport you back in time, say to helping your mum bake a cake, or to painting a shed with your father.

In this case it was the smell of the floor polish coupled with the scent of the powder paints in the air that flung me back to my days of trying to control 33 mini-disaster machines (or as they are known to the general public ‘children’).

I’m sure that new parents must have the same experience when they first visit their child’s school.

The job itself was quite an easy one, one of the teachers was having a panic attack, which is fair enough really—I know that if I were still trying to teach, I’d be in a constant state of panic attack.