Weird things humans. For 12 years I have whinged about the parent/teacher interview. Twice a year I've rocked up to the school for what feels like report card speed dating. There's a giant countdown clock projected on the wall and a buzzer sounds when your allotted seven minutes is up. Two minutes to locate the next teacher and room. Repeat. You do gain insights a report card alone can not give and get tips on the upcoming semester. But for a girl who loves a bit of a chat it only ever feels like it scratches the surface. For the teachers it must be a special kind of torture but they are faultlessly polite and helpful. And yet I'm the one who whinges. Until today. At the end of penultimate interview, the Economics teacher casually said "I guess this is your last one of these then". And it hit me. I was seven minutes away from never having to go through the process again. The sun was setting on yet another chapter of my life. And I simultaneously felt like doing a happy dance and bursting into tears. But most of all I would have liked to go back and see those other teachers to thank them again properly. But that bird had flown the coup and my seven minutes of fame was over. Time flies
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