It was so boring. Mary got a pen out and started a game.
Then a nun caught us, dobbed us in to Miss B and the Father.
She asked the Father to spank us, but the nun did it instead.
It really hurt.
She had a hand as large as a man’s and it was more like a paw.
It hurt as bad as the slipper.
It was really bad, mum,” I said, trying to get some level of sympathy, but failing miserably.
“Is that it?” mum asked.
“Miss B is sending a letter home. We have to buy a new hymn book to replace the damaged one,” I added.
“What’s with the ‘we’?
That will come out of your pocket money, young lady,” which is what I expected to hear.