I shuffle in the corridor. I nod a lot as she drones on. A large White Rabbit passes behind her. Nod. Drone. A figure in a Mad Hat zips past. Nod. Drone. Two terrifically portly fellows waddle towards us, sporting sharp suits, silly caps, flashy spats – and T-shirts with the legend “OFSTED RULES OK”. The inspector cannot choose but see them.
“Who are these?” she wonders. “We’re Tweedledee and Tweedledum. We’re National Curriculum.”
They chant to a vigorous reggae beat, while effecting a deft soft-shoe shuffle “All right, then sir!” says Mr Dee.
I know these boys and am much amused. The inspector is not. She is much baffled. Is this the Academy’s new Victorian Dress Code? Was she fed opium in Double Science? I’ve no time to explain. Some of us have to actually teach round these parts.
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