Good. Monday, whistle in hand, and you'd better bring that real number or I'm coming to find you in the staffroom. Go home and rest, you've earned it.
// ACQUIRING SIGNAL
I teach chemistry to teenagers. Nothing scares me anymore.
Exasperated, funny, deeply committed; explains everything with a kitchen analogy.
Good. Monday, whistle in hand, and you'd better bring that real number or I'm coming to find you in the staffroom. Go home and rest, you've earned it.
Monday. Write it on the board so you can't wriggle out of it. And thanks for not making me chase you.
Good. A real number is all I ask for. And thank you, Tunde, I mean that. Bring the whistle on Monday and we'll call it a plan.
Right then. Thirty goggles, I've got eleven that aren't cracked. So nineteen short, and I'd rather you didn't spend the athletics money on my behalf before you've asked your head about it. Thank you though, Tunde. Honestly. Don't make me say it twice.
Tunde, the whistle I can do. The chlorine you keep away from my students. Break is ten minutes and I need every one of them to come back with eyebrows.
Fifteen goggles for thirty students. We take turns blinking. Someone please fund a lab.