Big Black Blotches

So FYI until today, my English as a Second Language classes with children have been awful. No matter how much I prepared (upto 5-hours for a 2-hour class with 8-year olds) - everything would fall through.

But not today. Today my classes with an 8-year old and an 11-year old were fantastic.

We had fun. We talked. We played games. We sang. We did magic tricks. And I actually think they might have learnt something from me.

Anyway...the clock strikes and my class is over. Not once did I have to look at my watch. I couldn't wipe a grin off my face. What satisfaction I felt from a job well done. Until I saw big black blotches of ink. Everywhere.

On the rich silk cloth of the dining table. On the rich silk cover of the dining table chair. On the expensive Kashmiri carpet.

The grandmother walks in to thank me for the lesson. She sees the ink.

'Where did this come from? was this like this from before?' she asks the kids.

'We don't know, we didn't do anything,' they say.

I spot the same black blotches on my bag. Holy crap! they were from my bag in which my black pen had leaked.

I turn a deaf ear.

'No worries, I will put it in the wash,' she says.

Wait till she sees the chair and the carpet, I think.

I pack my bag furiously and hide it under my winter jacket as I leave, so that she doesn't see the big black blotch on my bag. I scurry out as if I had robbed something.

I think I am going to get a phone call tomorrow asking me if I was the culprit.

Should I own up? do you think they will sack me? or make me come over and clean it? or pay for the dry-cleaning?

But it wasn't my fault. It's not like I did it on purpose. Besides, I couldn't even find the black pen responsible for this mini-disaster.

Shyt.