When my children were young, when I used to pick them up from school, I'd always want to know what they'd been up to all day. And it's the last thing they wanted to tell me, because their heads were full of school and all they wanted to do was to go down the park, or get an ice lolly, or go home and have tea. And then later, when I was busy cooking or something, they'd wait just for the right moment to come and tell me everything. And years later I thought, "Hmm, that's an interesting idea for a poem, a conversation poem between a parent and a child," and it goes like this. "What did you do at school today? Nothing. Nothing? Well, nothing much. You're telling me you did nothing much all day long? Well, alright mum, if you really want to know, I had four lessons and 45 minutes of playtime, in which I went around with three friends. For lunch, I ate 22 baked beans, two fish fingers, and a bit of a banana. I fed Nibbles, the class hamster one sunflower seed. I wrote one poem, I got 7 out of 10 for a spelling test, and I did 16 fairly tricky maths questions. And I learned five very interesting things about the ancient Egyptians, including how they used to remove the Bra. Mom, do you ever listen to a single word I say? Oh, sorry darling, what was that? I said I removed my teacher's brain today. What? Oh, well done you, what'd you like for tea?".