As many of you know, Weedy (as in wee D) is my 6-year old son.
Last week his class was told that, over the coming 30 or so weeks, they each have to pick a subject and present a Powerpoint presentation to the class.
I repeat. My son is 6 years old.
But he is MY son - and my son knows how to use a computer. He knows how to study tube maps, road maps, bus maps and he has a fine penchant for downloading viruses and trojans, that I can't for the life of me get rid of. Yet.
So, asks the teacher, who would like to be first? Up shot Weedy's hand. Excellent Weedy, declares the teacher. Ok, she didn't call him Weedy - she'd have probably been hauled up in front of the RSPCC if she had. I for one, would certainly have complained - after all, it's only me who is allowed to call him that.
And what is your chosen subject?
What a question! How long, exactly, has she known him - to have to ask... I dunno... I worry about the observational powers of teachers today.
Eh, The London Underground, miss.
And would that be the pan-European student activist movement that brought industry to its knees in 1968?
No Miss, that's the trains wot go under the ground, Miss.
So, Weedy, with a little help form Daddy, set about preparing a 10-screen Powerpoint presentation which he gave to the class yesterday - and by all accounts - to great acclaim.
Well done, Boy. My only issue was that I was not there to see it - or even that it wasn't filmed. I mean if you are going to go all hi-tech with the kids, then come on - a little £100 Flip camera would not have gone amiss surely?
