Morning 'quiet time', and four other ways of telling if your teacher was hungover 

THERE were times in primary school when your teacher was clearly suffering the after-effects of a rough night – you were just too young to notice these tell-tale tricks.

Television

There was no bigger giveaway that your teacher had spent a night on the piss than if they stumbled into class pushing the school’s giant box television on a trolley. You could focus on classic episodes of Rosie & Jim instead of learning how to spell, while they focused on not being sick in their lap.

Morning ‘quiet time’

Being hungover is agony. Being hungover while 30 small children scream at you is enough to make you want to walk into the sea. Your teacher may have dressed this up by calling it ‘meditation’ or something similar, but really it was just to get you to sit quietly while they desperately necked paracetamol and Lucozade.

Colouring-in

After some dogshit results in your times-tables test, your teacher promised that – the very next morning – they would spend several hours going over multiplication. Instead they come in smelling like a bin, looking like they’ve slept in a hedge, and tell you to do some ‘colouring in’ instead. Thank God for their troubled home life.

Homework

You would count your lucky stars when, having not done a nonsense book report or whatever and gone into school expecting a bollocking, your teacher slumps into their desk and mumbles that everyone can ‘do homework’. Though you didn’t know it then, you owed a lot to your local pub’s Thursday 2-for-1 happy hour.

Impromptu playtime

If your teacher immediately ushered you all outside to the field to ‘play’ in the morning, they’d spent a night on the sauce. This would be some of the least supervised play-time of your lives, as you ran riot, climbing trees unsupervised, while your teacher vomited behind a skip.

Spot the difference: Blitz spirit vs. 2021 petrol shortage spirit

HAVE you noticed yet again the difference between Brits’ legendary ‘Blitz spirit’ and how they actually behave in a crisis? Here’s the myth vs. reality.

Blitz spirit: Brits ‘dig for victory’ to grow their own fruit and veg, knowing it’s slightly futile but good for morale. They learn basic recipes like Lord Woolton’s Unpleasant Boiled Potato And Bovril pie.

2021 petrol shortage spirit: Brits are petrified that they may not be able to buy pre-prepared pigs in blankets, which are just sausages wrapped in bacon. For the second time, Brits go into a blind panic over KFC shortages as if sitting in an anodyne fast food joint eating chicken from a greasy box is their reason for living.

Blitz spirit: Ordinary members of the public risk their lives to evacuate British troops from Dunkirk on the ‘little ships’. 

2021 petrol shortage spirit: Ordinary members of the public risk their lives to fill water bottles with a small amount of petrol which won’t get them very far and may curtail any journeys by turning their car into a blazing fireball.

Blitz spirit: Most Britons pull together and help out neighbours in need. (With some notable exceptions such as serial killers and thieves like ‘Mad’ Frankie Fraser.)

2021 petrol shortage spirit: It’s every man for himself as garage forecourts become a battlefield. A few more weeks of this and wholesale petrol station looting will take over, with people battering each other for a tube of Pringles or some manky daffodils.

Blitz spirit: Britons accept rationing, resulting in tiny portions of things like butter and meat.

2021 petrol shortage spirit: Britons grab as much for themselves as they can and f**k everyone else, just like earlier panic buying when an average household could end up with 10,000 tins of baked beans.