I have previously written about the inappropriateness that has somehow condensed itself into a little midget, who often masquerades as my mother. Finding and linking to all those posts would take me hours, so if you haven’t read any of her anecdotes, please take my word for it. She is the pits.
When I was about 7 years old, I was in a religious Christian-owned Indian school in an Islamic country. There was very little in terms of racy fun that passed for acceptable in those hallowed precincts. Plus I was 7. I was a brainless, wide-eyed sap at 16; at 7 I was a walking vacuum, with my head in the clouds.
One fine day, I was reciting a nursery rhyme in school. It was the popular Jack and Jill ditty, albeit with a twist [that I was not aware of at the time]:
Jack and Jill went up the hill,
To fetch a pail of water.
God knows what they did up there,
Because they came down with a daughter.
Let’s just say, for the record, this sort of humour wasn’t acceptable in my school. It is harmless really, a bit tongue-in-cheek at the very most. But in my school? Might as well have had an orgy in auditorium under the portrait of Sheikh Rashid.
A prefect hauled me up.
“WHAT ARE YOU SINGING?”
“Jack and Jill went up the..”
“YES I HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME, YOU NAUGHTY GIRL! I AM GOING TO COMPLAIN TO YOUR TEACHER!”
*evidently assuming a fellow student had committed the transgression of teaching me this* “WHO TAUGHT YOU THIS?”
“WHERE IS YOUR MO- Wait what? Your mother? Your MOTHER?”
*weakly* “Carry on to your class, please.”
Years later, I told my mother this incident. Whenever she remembers it, she still howls at the stymied prudery of my school.