I endured the most infuriating maths lesson ever this afternoon.

The maths teacher was waxing lyrical about the advantages of the imperial system over the metric system. (England supposedly uses the metric system, but in reality can't bring itself to let go of the imperial system. This leads to,for instance, the practice of selling milk in units of 548ml - because 548ml is equivalent to one pint.) This teacher likes the imperial system because, he claims, it's based on the human body. So he spent the entire lesson burbling on about spans, hands, feet, and yards, and writing things on the board like "one metre = 39 inches". Because, of course, that piece of information is going to be so useful to them in the exams that they're writing in a couple of weeks. As if. It almost seemed malicious - if he'd set out to confuse the students he couldn't have done a better job. They were completely baffled; especially when he started rambling on about hands and horses and musing about just how it is that one measures a horse's height - up to the shoulder, or is it the ear? I helped the kids that I'm there to assist, but as for the rest of them - well, I am absolutely certain that not one of them learned a single thing that hour. I felt like leaping up and shaking the teacher - but of course, I didn't.

By the time I arrived home I was so tired and headachy and miserable that I was convinced that I was coming down with flu.

However, I think it was all psychosomatic, because I feel great now.

Bobby suggested that we do a date night,so we got take-away pizza for the kids and the two of us walked down to this Nepalese restaurant, ate a delicious meal, drank way too much, and walked home via the park in the moonlight.

I do like living here.