Jonathan Jorrington slouched in his seat,
And drummed on the floor with the soles of his feet.
He wouldn’t sit still or stop making a noise,
And moaned that he wanted to play with his toys.
He scowled and he pouted while plotting sedition,
Homeschooling the boy was a war of attrition!

The school to their credit had worked round the clock
To timetable lessons once over the shock
Of BoJo’s announcement, a u-turn so fast,
That parents and teachers were all left aghast.
“But surely”, they cried, “hadn’t Boris proclaimed
That schools must stay open, he’s clearly deranged!“

Alas for the Jorringtons lockdown was tough,
Of COVID 19 they had all had enough!
Exclusion from school had been quite unforeseen,
And Jon missed his friends and a daily routine.
Though usually affable, bright and vivacious
The boy became rude and extremely vexatious.

By contrast his sister was easy to school,
She never dissented or acted the fool.
She handed in work with a smile to be checked,
And usually got all her homework correct.
In short she complied without blame or resentment,
Young Anne was a model of placid contentment.

But Jon had a fit when he got something wrong,
And burst into tears when lessons went on.
Or else he threw Lego all over the floor,
And ran from the room with a slam of the door.
His mood swings were awful and shocking to see,
Tuition at home was not Jon’s cup of tea!

As well as the nightmare of teaching was work,
The pressure of which sent Jon’s father berserk.
Calls to his boss interrupted by shouts,
He couldn’t find peace anywhere in the house!
So work only happened once all were in bed,
Which left him exhausted and feeling half-dead.

Irascible, haggard, Jon’s father complained,
That teaching was really best left to those trained
In techniques to manage a truculent child,
And ways to avoid being constantly riled.
There were some occasions when Jon was engaged,
But mostly his father just grew more enraged.

Then one day when Jon had refused to do lessons,
A day that was hallmarked by endless transgressions,
His father decided enough was enough,
And stomped up the stairs in a terrible huff.
He’d had it with worksheets and Zoom calls that failed
And obstinate children who shouted and wailed.

He took from a cupboard his single malt whisky
And started to drink (though he knew it was risky).
He drained the whole bottle and slumped to the floor,
And wasn’t discovered till quarter past four.
He died there and then I am sorry to say,
The tragic effect of a terrible day.

A test showed the presence of COVID-19,
So that was the cause (though no symptoms were seen).
A nonsense of course, a statistical lie,
COVID, though present, did not make him die.
It wasn’t the virus that finally killed him,
But simply the stress of homeschooling his children.