Poem // The Class Mascot

With no advanced notice
This thing appears;
Fur matted and tatty
It’s been abused for years.
“It’s the class mascot” they say
“Look in the book”
I scowl at the teacher,
And take her bag off the hook.
Back at home,
With a gin in hand,
I read all the pages
And develop a plan.
“That’s our weekend over”
I exclaim to the Mr,
“We’ve got to spend our days
Taking picture after picture.”
“This family took it to the farm,
And this one to the zoo!
I wanted a chilled weekend,
Watching Toy Story 2…”
The pressure is on
To have the BEST few days.
Competition stakes are high,
In the Parent-Class Mascot craze.
One of the mums has written
Four full pages of fun,
Pictures of smiles and adventures,
I’m already feeling outdone…
We take it out for cake
(And healthy food too).
It gets dropped in a puddle,
And narrowly avoids toddler poo…
Modelling for a life drawing class
Run by my child,
Stolen by the youngest,
Who’s 100% wild.
It’s the wettest weekend
Of the whole sodding year!
In the book, I’m going to have
To make this abundantly clear.
Oh, the Class Mascot,
Another pressure to add,
Another thing to prove,
Another way to feel bad.
Bring on Wednesday,
When we can hand the thing back.
And every Friday pray,
That it’s not in her rucksack…

Hannah