Several years ago, we moved into a new neighbourhood. Before that, my son used to attend a school on the local estate. It got quite inconvenient after a while, and we decided it was best to find somewhere closer to home.
We found a school just about a mile away from our house. Since I worked from home, I was able to drive my son to and from school each day. The new school was rather modern, always bustling with activities and interactive learning. The teachers were pleasant; I met most of them at the parents evenings. Of them all, I was especially fond of Miss Sarah Bennett, who taught French. She was also my sons class teacher.
It so happened that she lived just next door. When my son changed schools, we started bumping into her now and then in the park, at the market, or while shopping for groceries. One morning, as I was stepping out, she was walking directly towards me. It was early, so I knew she was heading to school. There seemed no polite way out, so I offered her a lift.
“Sarah, hop in Roberts just about to leave; were heading to school together.”
She agreed happily. It wasnt a bother for me at all. We drove to school, she thanked me, and went on her way. Robert felt quite awkward being driven to school with his teacher. He asked if it was odd to be acquainted with teachers outside school.
It happened so often by chance, Id drop her off at school. Only later did I notice a pattern in these seemingly coincidental encounters.
A couple more times I gave her rides, just out of circumstance. Then, in April, I received a message.
“Good morning. Are you driving to school today?”
It was a text from Miss Bennett. I replied that we were. I glanced outside she was already waiting near the car. My son was caught off guard by this twist. Truthfully, I felt a bit embarrassed myself. We headed out to the driveway.
“Im so grateful for the lift today. Ive got all three packs of exercise books, theyre terribly heavy hard to carry.”
I couldnt refuse her, but it was clear things couldnt go on this way. I needed to make some sort of decision. The teacher was becoming a little too forward. So, I set a little trap:
“Sarah, shall we meet tomorrow at the same time? Then no one will have to wait around, and we can all head off together.”
I hoped she would decline politely.
“Oh, how wonderful! That means I can sleep in by twenty minutes each day. Well settle it then Ill be at yours by eight every morning!”
What a deal… My son shot me an unhappy look; I knew he wasnt pleased. Looking back, I wonder how to manage the situation. Perhaps Ill return to working at the stationery shop, simply so I have a proper reason to politely turn down a teacher…
