Monsterology

A few weeks ago we all got Templared. I just paid the credit cards bills for that, so feel the need to do some planning. I need to involve those books in some education. Primarily because it will make sense of that unwieldy, spontaneous purchase of a lovely sparkly book on Monsterology with all the twinkly jewels in the cover. Then there are the little envelopes which you must put your fingers into and squash the plastic seal back again quickly because if Tiger finds out you have been peeping in her book she will sever your fingers and leave you hugging five bleeding stumps.

Of course I can't leave Tiger just to read the thing. We home educators have to turn these opportunities into appropriate learning experiences. And anyway, planning is what teachers are trained to do. They must busy themselves planningplanningplanning all day long! And I am good at planning. My planning will be fantastic. I plan therefore I am. How many books are out there on teacherology that say planning is a really really good thing to do? With proper planning you can keep everyone occupied and stop Kirk getting out the hammer again.

So here I go. Planning. To derive maximum learning experience and impact from Templar's lovelydribbleinducing Monsterology book.

• We can listen to those old tapes of Frankenstein. That abridged copy on cassette. Trawling those charity shops for teaching resources makes me feel good and worthy. And look how those finds from 5 years ago come in useful now!

• Greek legends. They've got monsters. We have about forty books on Greek legends, mostly paid for from the library when the fines became too much to bear.

• Poems. I'm sure I can find poems. I'm sure there's one called something like the Kwackagee.

• Anglo Saxons. We had to give Beowulf back to the library after the librarian started pleading. Go to Amazon. They'll have a copy and Dig has an account there. Spend all his money while he's in Brussels lecturing Parliament on their extravagant waste of commas.

• Invent a monster, shaped a bit like the European Parliament. Mud, wool, bit of old dustbin.

• Body parts. I have a plastic squirting heart. I'll find it and fill it with food colouring. Then we could make a liver. My ambitions are rising as I type. I want a full sized anatomical model with full detachable body parts*.

• Monster dinner. Shark can trawl through Roald Dahl's dinners. I'm sure she'll make something. Last night she made mashed potato and chopped pear. She can serve that with a dusting of cocoa powder and a cashew nut. Uh. She already did.

And then while my head is filling up with all this monsterology planning I am distracted by the possibility of food, having starved from supper last night, so I walk into the kitchen, where I see Tiger patiently trying to squeeze one of the Arseface sisters into a tiny costume.


Arseface will never fit. Not with those legs sewn on round the hips. Tiger is becoming a bit frustrated though and making those strange grunty sounds that I hear when I try on those size 12 jeans that fitted last week and they're bloody fitting this week.

But foolish child! She needs to do more planning about her costume design!

So I tell her that.

At which point, she turns bright scarlet and starts ripping off every hair from her head. Then the next moment Arseface is hurtling towards the kitchen wall at 5,000 mph while Tiger is screaming like 40,000 bats trapped in a tunnel and pulling the door off its hinges in an attempt to smash it over my head.

I think it may be her hormones. I can detect the start of those cycles. Tsk! More planning for me to do! I could turn Tiger's hormonal cycles into a lesson on PSHE. I bet she'd appreciate that.


*Memo: go to scrapstore. Buy more glue sticks.