I love teaching. Really I do. On a day-to-day basis few jobs can match it for unpredictability or outright randomness, except for being the man who tests dice to be put in monopoly sets. And the pays low enough that I can feel all good about not being an accountant or actuary or some other dull city job where the whole purpose revolves around money, but it’s pretty good compared to plenty of other jobs so I can afford a house and a nice car. By nice I mean one that goes from A to B without breaking down rather than the sort that gets Top Gear all excited.

But sometimes things happen that make you think ‘why do I bother?’ On Friday I had some (top set!) year eights in for being rude and generally fussy. There were some year tens outside the window and one of them decides to film me. I go outside to tackle him and he wanders off. What a coward. Unfortunately I had no idea of his name, based on appearances it might well have been Greasy McChavchav for all I knew. Me, another maths teacher plus the head of department then have all his mates into one of the rooms to try and find out his name. They do the whole ‘I’m not telling you nothing’ routine so lose their dinnertime. Eventually though we get to the bottom of it by asking some other pupils and checking his picture on the glorious computer system.

The point is that some kids, like many adults, are complete and utter losers and there is very little desire to be anywhere within a hundred miles of them, let alone in the same classroom. It’s this sot of stupidity with phones that drives me mad. Okay some kids have tough lives and I have a lot of sympathy for them, but videoing a teacher for kicks has nothing to do with a rough upbringing and everything to do with being a twat.