So there we were, ‘trying’ to get ‘some’ schoolwork achieved for the day.  The children were a bit restless – a bit, well ‘unruly’.  Finally, though, after some threats and rather stern words from me, they did begin to calm down, and eventually we found ourselves at the table, with heads back in the books.

About this time, my 13 year old son began scratching his head, staring with puzzlement at his Maths book.  Looking up, he asked ‘Mum, what’s a polygon’? 

Without flinching or even breaking a smile, my 11 year old, who was seated at the opposite end of the table, threw up her hand, exclaiming, ‘oooh, oooh, I know what that is!   It’s a dead parrot!’.  

Well, you could have heard a pin drop, as we all tried to comprehend what she had said.  All of us at the table turned our heads in her direction, completely bewildered.  “Y’know”, she continued, “Polly   -    Gone!”

And thus ended  the quiet, calm day.