I taught my year eight class a lesson about the Golden Number - a very special number that supposedly defines beauty. I used a worksheet with pictures of beautiful people including Cheryl Tweedy, David Beckham and Keira Knightly.
I really should have thought more carefully about this. Hormonal teenagers - some of whom are a little too keen on getting my attention - discussions about beauty, that Friday feeling... it was a recipe for disaster.
Credit then to them for not just causing havoc, though they came close:
I point the the picture of Cheryl Tweedy on the worksheet and ask who it is. One of the girls puts her hands up and says: 'Me!' um... not quite and thanks alot for ruining my Girls Aloud fantasies - all of a sudden I can't think of any reason to use Google ever again.
The boys in the class (who are chatty at the best of times) became engaged in a frantic debate about the virtues of Angelina Jolie's bodily features. It's not really maths is it?
And, can I just say: No I don't want to hear your opinions about how gorgeous Will Smith looks in the shower at the start of I-Robot.
I tried my best to be professional by using what I'd consider to be non-sexual language. Like 'beautiful' or 'pretty': you can have a pretty view or a beautiful day, but you can't have a 'fit' painting.
Nevertheless it was difficult to avoid a few tight spots, like when the same girl who'd declared herself to be Cheryl Tweedy asked if she (Cheryl) was fit. So what you're really asking is if I think you're fit? Not that I'd say something like that of course - I mumbled something about Cheryl Tweedy being quite pretty and made a speedy exit.
And there was the time when a pupil asked why I'd put Shayne Ward on the sheet when he's not fit at all (apparently). My response was 'really?!' said with too much feeling and hence resulting in raised eyebrows. Cue much backtracking and a slight redness in the face.
It's all in a day's work!