It wasn't just me who audibly snorted during today's show and tell in seven-year-old F's class today. The teacher's aide was similarly bemused.
Young A brought along her baby blankets to show the class. Very sweet. Then she rummaged in her bag for 'my first phone'. I expected a flourescent plastic thing. Instead, she triumphantly held aloft a stainless steel contraption much, much nicer than my last mobile phone.
'It takes photos and everything' she beamed importantly.
There was a collective gasp among her classmates.
As I said, the teacher's aide snorted. I don't know what I did. I think I laughed.
'I've taken the battery out' she said. 'My mum gave it to me last week when she ordered her new phone. She wanted a black one.'
So, I figured it must have been relegated to A's toybox instead of hard rubbbish.
I was wrong.
'Do you send messages?' asked a classmate.
'Yes. LOTS. I'm only supposed to do it when my mum and dad are in the room watching, so they know who I'm talking to, and because it costs lots of money. But ACTUALLY I send lots and lots from my bedroom upstairs.'
'Are there games?'
'Yes. LOTS.' She proceeded to list the games.
'Thank you A' said the teacher. 'Next please.'